Woo, 2 chapters in one day. I know they're pretty short, sorry :T This story is seriously sad, lol. Well, enjoy!

Dear Diary,

I'm slowly falling back into the abyss. It took me years, years to climb out. I thought I was finally strong, finally able to go back to an ordinary life.

All of that gets crushed by the sight of one person.

Diary, how does she do it? How is she able to crawl under my skin, sleep and lay eggs there?

Why am I unable to stand up for myself, to tell her to stop?

Why haven't I told anyone what she's doing?

Because you like it. That voice in the back of my head always seems to say. Shut up! I want to scream, but there's no one around to hear me. Nothing but the cold darkness of my lonely room.

Beck broke up with me. There was no denying what he saw on The Slap. Everyone, and I mean everyone was talking about it. All the boys couldn't take their eyes off of me and the girls looked at me with disgust.

What did I do to deserve this?

I remember the old Tori, the one who would never do this to me. I remember how everything was before that faithful day in kindergarten.

We were both so young, so carefree. We had dreams and aspirations. Girls looked at our friendship with envy, knowing that they'd probably never be that close with anyone, ever.

Then I remember the first time, the second time, the third, tenth and fiftieth times. It went on for what felt like forever, but it was our little secret. A secret I wasn't allowed to tell.

"Why do you do this to me?" I asked Tori one day in seventh grade while she was pressed against me in my bedroom closet. A look of confusion and shock spread across her face like she couldn't believe I would even ask that.

"Why? Because you fucking deserve it, Jade!"

Her lips crashed against mine once again, and the kiss felt angry, hungry. I just didn't understand. Why did I deserve it? As if reading my mind, she spoke up.

"You're so fucking perfect. Not a damn care in the world. It's time to grow up, Jade. Not everything is rainbows and sunshine."

I figured she was right. She was always right. She was more mature than me, had more experience.

She was always giving me little life lessons, and I felt like she knew everything.

I'm a student, and she's my teacher. Telling me all the things you don't learn at school, the things movies and parents don't teach you. The little hidden things, the deeper secrets.

That's why I thought I deserved it, that it was normal.

I know now that she was wrong. I didn't deserve it, any of it. I deserved a happy childhood and a good friend. I deserved my innocence, I deserved the right to choose for myself. I deserved anything but what she did to me.

I know she was having problems, but I could've helped her. She didn't have to do those things. She didn't have to scar me for life.

My eye catches the exposed skin of my left arm, and I see the faded scars. They each have their own story, their own reason behind it. I haven't cut since I moved here, but the feeling is unbearable.

Talk to you later, Diary.