Dear Diary,


Melissa and I were talking today.

I wanted to know how she felt about Mickey not being around anymore.

She told me she felt sad because he died.

I wonder why she would feel sad for someone like him.

But then she told me she did feel safer now that he wasn't around anymore.

That is good.

Mickey always seemed like a molester to me anyway.

So I asked her if she was happy that he was gone.

She said she was.

I thought that was a good time to tell her.

I told her I was the one who killed him.

She looked confused.

I reminded her that she said she wanted him to die.

Then she told me she wasn't talking about Mickey.

She was talking about a character from her favorite series.

A series character.

I didn't expect that.

I actually laughed.

Then she laughed too.

She thought I was joking.

I wasn't.

I told her again.

I killed Mickey.

She stopped laughing.

She became quiet.

Very quiet.

I saw it on her face.

She was scared of me.

That's not normal.

We are lovers.

She is supposed to try to understand me.

Not be scared of me.

Girl.

I don't understand.

She moved away when I tried to get closer.

I asked her what was wrong.

She didn't answer.

She just kept looking at me.

Like I was someone else.

I'm not someone else.

I'm me.

The same person who buys her ice cream.

The same person who walks her home.

The same person she calls her best friend.

Best friend.

Maybe that is the problem.

Maybe she still thinks we're just friends.

But we're not.

Not anymore.

I know what we are.

She said she wanted to leave.

I couldn't let her.

She was going to tell someone.

I could see it.

If she tells someone, they'll take her away from me.

They'll ruin everything.

They'll make her think I'm a bad person.

They'll make her think I didn't do it for her.

I can't let that happen.

So I gave her something to help her sleep.

She is sleeping now.

She looks peaceful.

I think she'll understand when she wakes up.

I'll explain everything properly.

I'll tell her I did it because she said she wanted him gone.

I'll tell her I was protecting her.

I'll tell her that lovers tell each other everything.

No matter how bad it is.

Maybe after she understands, she'll stop being afraid of me.

Maybe then I'll let her go.

I hope she understands.

I'm sure she will.

Goodnight.

Sweet dreams, Diary.