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The personal and totally-true diary/journal of Chloe Vanderwaal. (view spoiler)

message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

June 20th

I don't know why I'm doing this. I mean, it's stupid, and it makes no sense. But my dad is making me go to this therapist for now, and I don't want to talk to him. He's old and ugly and treats me like I'm crazy. I'm not crazy, I just miss my mom, and I want my dad to talk to me. Or Maria. I went to see him today and I didn't speak at all. Stayed totally silent, thinking that maybe he'd tell dad I'm too stubborn and that he can't help. Which would be the truth. No idiot with a psychology degree and a musty old sofa is going to help me through my grief. Anyway, for a whole hour today this guy and me sat in silence. He wanted me to talk, but I wasn't going to. He asked a couple of questions, maybe one every ten minutes. I didn't answer, I pretended not to hear him. And right before I left, when my handle was on the door, he said that he would tell my dad I didn't have to come back If I wrote a journal. Like instead of talking to him, put all these dumb feelings in here. Well, see I told him that my mom was dead and my family had gone mentally mute, and no fucking journal could help that. So I have to go back in two days. But I got to thinking about it. I can't talk to my dad, because he's avoiding me. I can't talk to Maria because she's already back at school. I'm not talking to some creepy bald guy on a couch. And it's gotta be bad to keep this stuff bottled up, right? Well, that's what these stupid glued pieces of paper are for. Now I'm gonna feel pretty stupid writing in this. I'm already feeling really fourth grade; tucking it under my mattress and into my purse so no one finds it. But I think I need it.

I guess I should start by admitting that I feel empty. I know that my family was never really close, but we were a family. We used to go on trips and things... I dunno we played board games sometimes. I think mom was who made that happen. We all loved her so we did things to be with her, and she lived all of us, so she brought us all together. But now, now this cancer came and it took her over and now she's lying dead in some casket in the ground. And everyone at the funeral cried and said their pretty words but they don't understand. My mom is dead. They gave me hugs and apologized like it would do something for me, but all it did was make me want to scream. The whole burial was torture. I just wanted to run over to the wooden box and rip open th top and make her come back. It wasn't right, it was too soon. She was supposed to die when she was a grandma and when I was grown up and when I expected it to happen. But instead she left when I needed her. And I don't know who to be angry with. I started out being angry at God, but now I'm not so sure about him. Then I was mad at mom for leaving, but I know that if she could've chosen, she'd still be here, scheduling us a mani pedi for Tuesday. I'm starting to blame cancer instead, but I'm still mad at her. I'm so, so fucked up, and I need her. I need her to help me find my way out, or my way through or whatever way I need to take. But she left me and so did everyone else as soon as it happened. Everyone's gone and all I want to do is bring her back to life.

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