Burnt Letters

"The funeral was yesterday.

As cliché as this may sound, I wish that it had rained.

It isn't fair that the sky is clear when you're gone.

Everyone's a mess, you know.

The adults are all wishing this never happened.

As if they could have stopped it, as if they could have prevented you from getting sick.

And us, we're all...

We're struggling, but we're still here I guess."

A few teardrops make the ink stained, some words barely visible.

The next few lines are charred, lost to the fire.

A name is unable to be made out.

"-ia misses you the most.

Not that anyone's surprised, you two were so close.

Sometimes I was jealous of that.

Now I realize how stupid that was.

Funny, how all it took was your death.

Our plans have changed.

None of us are leaving the country anytime soon.

Not when what's left of you is here.

Everything feels different.

How are we supposed to leave this, leave you behind?

My parents keep trying to 'talk sense' into us but they should just give up.

We're a stubborn bu-"

A teen sits on the curb, flipping slowly through the notebook.

Too many words have been burned away.

Sirens fill their head, the flames lighting up the night.

The teen hesitates, then turns back to the beginning.

"You jerks asked for life advice, even though why you'd ask me for some is still questioned to this day!

Rule number one, stop reading this stupid notebook and get back to living life.

I'm serious, I'll know if you ke-"

The rest of the page is missing.

The entire thing smells of ash.

It's a shame that a funeral and fire made them lose it all.