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Boya 1108

19 September

Diary, please tell me this is just a dream. Tell me any of this shit isn’t real and it was just a nightmare that

I have to wake up.

Please tell me my mom is not dead

 
20 September

I still can’t believe mom is gone. Forever. I blame no one but myself. It’s all my fault. Solely. I shouldn’t

have forgotten my sketchbook at home. Then mom wouldn’t have to go back home and get it after she

dropped me off. She would just go straight to the grocery store just like she did everyday. She wouldn’t

have gotten into that car crash. If it wasn’t because of mom would still be alive.

I’m sorry mom. I really am.

I have nowhere to go now. I don’t know who to talk to. Where can I seek for help when mom isn’t here

anymore. I can still hear her voice whispering in my ear. I don’t want to book for the shrink appointment by

myself because mom usually did it for me. Besides, I haven’t been going to see Dr. Minerva for months

now since she told me I could stop taking Zoloft, since I transferred to Manhattan arts actually. I don’t

want to bother dad. Or Sarah. They’ve been through a lot already. Telling them about my problem would

be like adding more stress into their lives and I don’t want that to happen. I’ve hurt them enough.

Coming to realize, I am such a troublemaker. I messed up everyone’s lives. Though I could constantly

hear mom’s forever-gentle voice telling me it’s not my fault, I still can’t justify the reason to move on. I feel

like I don't belong in this world. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

21 September

I started hearing strange sounds even when I’m alone in the house. Sounds of someone ringing the

doorbell; but my apartment doesn’t have any doorbell. Sound of cars honking; but there’s no car outside.

Sound of a woman screaming; probably my mom’s. It’s horrifying. I sat in the dark toilet for hours

scratching my arms and face until they bleed, hoping these voices would go away. I never scratched

myself. Never for once. And when I did it today, I thought of how stupid I was, and freaked out about it,
Boya 1108

and I tried to stop doing it, but then it’s just too hard for me. It’s hard for me to explain but these feelings

never stop. The Cycling never stops. Hurting yourself. Realizing how silly that was. Hurting yourself again.

Getting stressed of why you can't stop hurting yourself. Then hurting yourself again. It keeps going over

and over.

22 September

I start losing appetite again as well as my sleep. I sweat. A lot. The pain. The guilt. They all run into my

veins. I haven’t been going to school since that day. We’re too busy taking care of mom’s funeral. Sarah

cries desperately and so does dad. My heart breaks when I see them cry. I’m sorry. The army guy told me

I have to end this soon.

23 September

Today I went back to school. I didn’t want to but I just had to. I’m afraid of getting out of the house and

hearing people saying things about me. I’m starting to hear voices of many people even when I’m alone in

the house too.

This son killed his own mom 


He is a true failure of the family 
This kid is crazy 
Poor Gilner family shouldn’t have put up with this boy 
 
This guy looks fine. He’s just a hypocrite.  
He isn’t depressed, I’m more depressed 

I know everything is all my fault. I know I am better off dead. Dad and Sarah would be happier without me.

I’m scared I’m going to hurt them too.

What should I do, sir?

You gotta do what you gotta do, soldier.


Boya 1108

25 September

Why am I such a failure?

The question I’ve always asked myself.

The pain needs to be stopped now. The army guy is back again telling me that my decision from last year

needs to be completed. I’m going to stick to the plan. Throwing myself off the Brooklyn bridge. So this is

probably my last entry to this diary before I’m going to put myself into a sleep longer than usual. I’ll leave

this book on my table. Dad will read it and he will understand. It might be tough on him and of course for

Sarah but after I’m gone for a while, they’ll realize that their lives are so much better without me in it.

Dad, if you’re reading this, I just want you to know that it’s not your fault. Never. Don’t ever think that

you’re such a failure because YOU ARE NOT. You’re the best dad a kid like me could ever ask for. But

you know dad, I just can’t live in this world anymore. Every night I fall asleep with the thought of never

ever waking up again and it hit me hard when I wake up and realize that I am still alive. You remember

Dr. Barney? I once told him that waking up is like a reverse nightmare, like you normally feel relieved

when you woke up from a nightmare right. Dad, I woke into a nightmare. But now, there is nothing for you

to be worried about. I’m going to be with mom and finally become happy like you know I’ve always

wanted. Please remember me as the happy child I once was. Remember me when you see a map

because you know, I’ve always wanted to be a map maker. And hey I even drew a map for you because I

just realized I’ve never given you one. Please keep it safe. I know this will be tough for you but I know

you’ll get through it one day. Make sure to stay healthy and be happy. Please don’t ever blame yourself

because that would hurt me more even when I’m gone. And take care of Sarah, too. Please tell her I’m

really sorry. Remind her of how beautiful, smart, and talented she is. I love both of you so much but I just

gotta go, dad. I hope you understand me. Thank you for everything, really.

Craig
Boya 1108

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