The Diary |Niall Horan|

No matter what, I was going to find out who killed my best friend.

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1. Last Entry

"Well Addison, I found some of the old notebooks that you two used to write in. Why don't we go take a look?"

I walk inside of the bedroom and look around. It was still the same, almost as if she was still here and only hiding in the closet to try and scare me like she so loved to do. The walls were still that same shade of pink that I had helped her pick out. Clothes were still poking out of the slightly open drawers of her wooden dresser- she never could keep them closed with the insane amount of clothing that she had. Even the bed was still left unmade, as it always was, the sheets and purple comforter wrinkled. I could picture her plopped down on it with her phone in hand, waiting for me to come over. 

I can feel tears pricking my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. It was like she was still here. Everything was still the same, except for Cassidee herself not sitting in here. It was like nothing had changed. Well, nothing about the room anyway. As far as everything else, well that is a completely different story. 

Imagine, for a moment, losing your best friend. Losing someone who you've known your whole life. Someone that you've told all of you're secrets to. Someone who you could trust completely, gone.

That's why we should never take anything for granted. We could have something one day, and the next it could disappear forever. It's a tough lesson that everyone has to learn. Whether we like it or not.

I watch as Mrs. Greene walks to the nightstand next to the bed, picking up the stack of notebooks sitting on top of it. She turns and hands them to me, and I take them gratefully. I glance at them, seeing the familiar colors of the books we used to have small conversations in when our eighth grade English teacher, Mr. Benson, wasn't paying any attention. A small smile makes its way onto my face at the memory. The two of us caused so much trouble in that class; mostly because Mr. Benson didn't care. We would always laugh about it when we walked out the door.

She would always make me laugh. That was another reason I loved Cassidee, as well as a reason to miss her. Losing her was like losing my own sister. It was hard. 

Mrs. Greene clears her throat and I turn my attention back to her.

"You can keep them. That's how she would have wanted it. The things written in there were between the two of you, so you should be the one to have them. It's really none of my business."

"Thank you. It really does mean a lot for you to give me these. I miss her."

She puts her hand on my shoulder comfortingly, and I can feel the tears coming for real now. They begin to stream down my face and I back away, embarrassed. I hated crying in front of people. I hated crying regardless. It made me feel so weak. I compose myself as quick as I can and look back at her.

"Well, I have to get home. My mom would be upset if I missed dinner." 

"I understand." she says and pulls me in for a quick hug. "Alright dear, thanks for stopping by. I'll see you soon."

I nod my head and turn, calling out a goodbye over my shoulder, and head down the stairs. I can hear the sounds of pouring rain before I even walk outside, and I immediately remember that I had left the top down on my Mustang convertible.

'Shit' I mutter under my breath. I run outside to the car and quickly put the top down. After the car is covered, I open the trunk and get out the towel that I had inside in case of this type of thing happened. 

When I had gotten the seats dry enough, I throw the towel into the back seat and start the car. I set the notebooks down beside me and pull out of the driveway. As I drove home, I listen to the comforting sound of the rain. It, like everything else, seemed to remind me of her. 

Cassidee loved the rain. 

The memories were bittersweet. It hurt to remember, but I knew it would be worse if I were to forget. That in itself was probably an impossibility anyway. No one forgot Cassidee. She was...special.

I sigh and continue to drive for a few more minutes before I pull up to my own house. I cut the engine and sit, watching the water slide down the windows. It was coming down to hard to even attempt to get out yet. I fiddle with the zipper on my jacket and when the rain slacks up, I get out of the car and walk to my front porch to open the door. 

Immediately after I walk in, I'm met with the smell of marinara and bell peppers. That meant Mom was cooking spaghetti, which was my favorite. Probably because she knew it was hard for me to be at the Greene's. Mother's intuition I guess.

"Mom, I'm home!" I call out. 

"In the kitchen."

I walk into the kitchen to see her standing over the stove, stirring the noodles. 

"Hi mom. Smells good." 

She turns towards me and smiles. 

"Thank you, dear. So, how's Linda?"

"She's upset. Looked like she was about to cry the whole time I was there."

"I imagine so. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

She wraps her arms around me, squeezing tight and kissing my forehead before pulling away. I smile up at her. 

"I'm going up to my room."

"Alright. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes."

I nod and walk upstairs to my bedroom and open the door. I walk in and close it behind me and make my way to my bed, plopping down on it. Looking at the books in my hand, I set them down one by one until I come across an unfamiliar one. 


It was small and blue with a magnetic clasp on the side and a bookmark sticking out the top. I undo the clasp and read the large writing on the first page titled Cassidee's Diary. Curiosity gets the better of me and I flip to the marked page. The date on the top read September 13, 2012.  

I freeze. That was the day she went missing. It was the last day I ever saw her. And it was the last page in the diary that was written on. My body starts shaking as I begin to read the writing.

 


Dear Diary,

I'm scared. Terrified is actually more accurate. I know that they've figured out
by now that I know who they are . That was the whole point of
their little game. To anonymously torture me. Why they do it, I don't know.
I try to be nice to people. I don't try to give them a reason to want
to hurt me.

All that matters to me now is keeping the people I care about safe. I
don't want anyone to have a reason to hurt them as well. That's
why I haven't told Addison.

I know that she can tell that I've been off lately. But she's too good
of a friend to bother me about it.

All I can do now is wait. I know they'll come for me. So this is probably my
last time writing.

I don't know exactly what they'll do to me, but I know it will keep me from
going to the police. The only reason I haven't done it yet is because of fear.

The only thing I can do is hope that they won't go after my friends and family 
after they're done with me.

-Cassidee 

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