Diary of Ivory Black

Chapter 5: The Conspiracy

    “Mei? Are you up yet?” Her father shouted calmly from the showers. That sentence only confuses more out of Mei’s sleepy head as she got up from the floor, which was another question on its own. It was early. The sun was just barely peeking over the mountains to the east. It was quiet. Too quiet. Normally the birds would be singing their asses off, but not today. Today they were sleeping off a wild bender from the night before, which was fine for Mei.

    The sun seemed to have risen in a hurry as if trying to make up for setting so early the evening before. Bouncing into the skyline like the great fiery orb that it is, and sending what was left of the moon packing. The sky, with blatant disregard for the overuse of alliteration, was a brilliantly bright baby blue and perched picturesquely on the leafy branches of the trees.

    First of all, how does one shout calmly? Second, of all, it’s a Sunday. Why was her father showering so early on a Sunday? Third of all, why was she on the floor?

    As she picked up her glasses and went outside of her room, she realized that none of the lights were on yet, which is never a problem for her as she knows every inch of the house from the back of her hand. As she calmly walked towards the kitchen, she started thinking rationally again, and she started making possible answers to her three questions. Here, lately, morning has been nothing but a heavy gray haze. The sky was gray, save for the glow of downtown's lights over the edge of the neighborhood horizon. The only sound that helps her think was the sound of her own breath.

    As she exited her room, Mei remembers how she used to spend hours and hours in her childhood, to enjoy the morning scenery. She would pretend that she was sitting on top of the world. And when she looked around and she would always see the blue skies and the sunshine.

    Those days don’t come around all the time but when they do, she always managed to take a step back and realize how great life is. Mei personally, has had quite a few days like that and let oh how she always wished that they never ended. And though the twenty-four hours time span humans refer as a day may be over it is a mere drop in the ocean of time they have in their lives, enjoying every minute is the only way to live life to the fullest.

    Now that her mind was finally back, she starts answering all the questions she previously asked herself. Firstly, she concludes that only her father could shout calmly, thus making it impossible for other beings set an example for measurement on how to shout calmly.

    Secondly, she concludes that she might’ve told her father that she needed to go to Ivy’s house again to check on her computer, thus the result being her father needs to shower on a Sunday. And even though she couldn’t confirm it at the moment, it's really a possible option.

    And lastly, she also concludes that after doing so, she went back into her room and went back to sorting out all of Ivory’s script until she fell asleep on the floor. She still can’t believe that the only drug she was on to get her so “hungover” was caffeine and tears.

    Now that all the questions are answered, time to make some morning tea. As she made her favorite green tea in the kitchen to help her wake up, she saw the rays of sunshine through the blinds leaving rows of sun garden on her bed. Little dust fairies water her front porch. She wiped the sandy beaches away from her eyes as she blows on her hot cup of tea. She reached up tall to stretch up her body because as one might expect, sleeping on the floor is never a good thing for the human posture. Suddenly, her tummy started rumbling like a demonic and furious dragon that it is.

    So since she was in the kitchen, she decided to make some waffles for herself—and her father, just in case he hasn’t eaten yet. She opened the fridge and grabbed the half-frozen instant waffle batter and set it on the counter so that it could warm up a little before she could cook it.

    Early Sunday Morning is always a good day for waffles. As she looked at the scenery painted on the kitchen window, she saw a stretch of street with no street signs and completely void of any human activity, nothing was happening, which was always a good thing for Mei.

    The point of view of the kitchen window was from across the street, she glanced at the two story property from across the street. The shadows, pavement, and the building create an interesting series of horizontal lines. The only objects to break the horizontal line of the buildings are a barber’s shop pole and a fire hydrant. Mei lets the early morning orange color of the light completely cover her frame while the long shadows show the time of day.

    In stark contrast to the warm colors of the light and the red plastered on her face, her backside was completely dark from lack of lighting. Making a beautiful and enchanting silhouette The shops are all dark inside and the gold colored titles of the businesses are all unreadable. She glanced at the small shops and rows of houses, which are also dark inside.

    Each window into the homes has their own differences and stories, showing individual personalities of the people who live there. The way the street scenery was somehow unrecognizable to a certain street, gives the illusion that this could be any small row of businesses in Indonesia.

    The absence of any people give the painting a calm feeling, like Mei’s slow breathing and a slight autumn wind might be the only thing to break the silence. Nobody was quite awake and the businesses have yet to open.

    It was a surreal scene, yet it was beautiful in its own way. But despite its beauty, that may have been the cause of many people might take for granted. It all perfectly captures the feeling of the Indonesian life of the time. And it effectively shows the calm and slow motion of the Indonesian life with only the architecture and the way it all masterfully allows the glowing sunlight to take over the scene.

    And as she sips more of her green tea, she can hear the bathroom door open—indicating that her father had finished his morning shower. She set her cup down on the counter and turned on the waffle maker, and set some of the batters down on it. And after five minutes of waiting, the first waffle was finally done.

    “Mei?” Her father suddenly spoke up from outside the showers.

    “Yeah, dad?” She answered nonchalantly, as she picked up the first waffle and set it on a plate. She smiled to herself as she poured another batch of batter on the waffle maker. After she had done so, she reached and opened one of the cabinets to get some powdered sugar to sprinkle on top of her waffle.

    “I smell waffles!” Her father spoke once more, as Mei sprinkled some of the powdered sugar on the first waffle. She approached the fridge to get some maple and chocolate syrup, and she was about to close the fridge until she remembered that there was leftover ice cream in the freezer—so she grabbed that as well and finally closed the fridge.

    “You better not be making waffles again, you’ve been eating that for breakfast for the past week!” Her father shouted softly as he traveled to the kitchen. Mei begins to wonder how her father managed to shout softly but decided that it was best to save the thought for later.

    “It’s fine dad.” She answered, as she drizzled some maple syrup and scooped some vanilla ice cream on to her waffle. And after she had done so, the second waffle was finally done the cooking.

    “You know it's not when even I remember you eating waffles.” Her father retaliated, as he traveled to the kitchen. Smelling the soft smell of waffle in the air, and regretting his decision to keep the waffle batter instead of throwing it away.

    The smell of cooked batter, followed by the warm steam from the waffle maker—it feels like heaven on earth to her. Simple mundane things like this are what’s keeping her sane.

    She took off her glasses and rubbed it against her mourning dress to get rid of the steam off of it, only to realize that she hasn’t changed her clothes for a whole day, let alone shower. She heard her father coming over to the kitchen and she quickly set up the second waffle and drizzled some chocolate syrup on top of it.

    “Really?” Mei’s father asked sarcastically.

    “Hey, I made the other one for you!” Mei protested.

    “Wait really?”

    “Yeah, I figured you haven’t had breakfast yet, so...” Mei trailed off at the end of her sentence, making her father chuckle in advance.

    “Actually,” He started. “I actually haven’t had breakfast. Thanks, Mei.” He replied as he reached for the second waffle.

    And after Mei grabbed some knives and forks, they both settled themselves on the dining table. And after a few minutes of silent eating, her father suddenly spoke up.

    “So, what’s the plan for today?” He asked as he shoved another piece of waffle into his mouth.

    Mei paused mid chewing, wide-eyed, and somehow impressed. “So, you showered on a Sunday without knowing why?” She replied as she straightened her glasses.

    “Well, I know that we have somewhere to go today.” He retaliated, trying to give himself credit. “I just forgot where.” He added.

    “Well,” Mei answered right after swallowing her food, almost choking in doing so. “I think we’re supposed to go to Ivy’s house.” She answered, while still trying to remember what exactly happened last night.

    “Ah, so to Anna and Adriane once more.” He retorted in a half optimistic tone.

    “Yeah,” Mei muttered nonchalantly.

    “Wait a minute...” He suddenly realized. “You haven’t even taken a shower, have you?” He asked suspiciously as he examines Mei’s wrinkled mourning gown.

    “Yeah.” She replied nervously, nervous that her father might scold her for it—as it was what he would usually do in these types of scenarios.

    “Well, what are you waiting for? Go finish your pancake and take a shower you silly goof!” He replied with a happy tone and smiled at her.

    “Wait, you’re not mad?” She questioned, as she glanced down at her now empty plate and fiddled with the leftover maple syrup and ice cream.

    “Look, when your mother went away, I did the things you’re doing right now.” He admitted calmly. “Forgetting to eat, shower, not even being able to sleep.” He continued.

    “So I know how you feel, and it’s fine to feel that way. You’re grieving, and that’s normal.” He finished.

    Mei smiled. “Well, since I’m finished with my waffles, I should probably go shower now.” She announced as she sat up on her chair.

    “Yeah, you go do your thing while I finished this pancake, kitty cat.” He chuckled as he shoved another piece of waffle.

    “Yeah.” She replied. “And...Dad?” She suddenly added.

    “Yeah?” He answered.

    “It's a waffle, not a pancake.”

    Soon enough after that, they’re already in the car. Driving out of the house, Mei by her father’s side. And as the sun traveled higher and the world starts to wake up, the golden ray of sunshine rose higher and higher through the horizon, changing the sky from dusky blue and orange to a clear blue as it began to heat up the earth, the bright side of the planet starts its day.

    And as her father hummed calming tunes for the both of them, occasionally asking Mei to clarify directions. Mei had made sure to check her bag that she had packed all the thing she needed for today. She brought a thumb drive so she could copy Ivory’s potential scripts into it, and she also brought some snacks and a bottled water so she wouldn’t be so hungry like yesterday. And most importantly, she made sure that she brought Ivy’s diary—she couldn’t have thought a rational reason why she just had the instinct to bring it with her.

    After she had done so, she decided that she needed to check her phone for messages—as she hasn't done that in a few days. And so she did exactly that. She picked up her phone and laid back down on her bed. She checked for messages, none. E-mails, none. Other notifications, none. But then, as she was about to turn off her phone and possibly doze off on the car seat, she gets a phone call.

    And it’s from Violet. Her forehead crinkled in confusion. Violet never calls, unless it's an absolute emergency—and by emergency, that means something bad happened. The only times Violet has ever called her, are when she accidentally set a classroom on fire, or when she accidentally cut her wrist or when—Never mind.

    Her body posture shifted itself on the faux leather car seat as if she was shrinking, she noticed herself getting tense. She glanced at her father, and she shifted her head, while she fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

    She unsure of what to do, her mind tells her to pick up the call. But she didn't know if she truly wanted to. She knows that it will end up badly for both her and Violet, but she has to pick up—and thus, she did.

    At first, all she heard was muffled noises, distant screaming, something breaking, and muffled crying. Was she worried? Of course, she is! Hell, worried couldn’t even begin to describe what she’s feeling at the moment. She spoke as soon as she regained her rationality.

    “Hello? Violet? Are you okay?”

    At first, she couldn’t hear anything, or more accurately, she couldn’t make up the words that were thrown at her. But after a while of muffled noises and gibberish words, she could finally make out what Violet’s saying to her—or possibly to someone else, as there was now more than one voice shouting from the other side.

    “Please help me.”

    “I can’t!”

    “No!”

    None of it makes sense to Mei, but nevertheless, it was quite enough to put her on edge. But she doesn’t know how to react, and really didn't look like she knew where she was or what she was doing. She kept looking around and her eyes kept darting back and forth very fast.

    She was filled with trepidation. Her heart was thumping so loud that she was almost sure that her father could hear it. In front of her, she could see the car somehow stopped moving. She recognized the street, it was nearing both Violet’s and Ivory’s house.

    There was just one question popping up in her mind, “I have to go to Violet first!”. But she couldn’t say anything, she was panicking. Hundreds of thousands of thought started flooding into her mind once more, and as she was about to break, a familiar voice woke her up from her reverie.

    “Mei, are you alright?” Her father asked her, in a calming and somehow soothing tone. But that alone, was not enough to calm Mei.

    “We need to go to Violet’s house.” She exclaimed almost immediately.

    “When?” Her father asked, confused as of what’s currently happening inside his beloved daughter’s mind.

    “Right now.” She answered, her hands had become shaky at this point.

    “Okay, I’ll take you there.” Her father complied, to her surprise. “Just calm down for now. Deep breaths, okay?” Her father added.

    “Okay,” Mei replied softly. “Deep breaths.”

    And after what seemed like an eternity, Mei and her father had finally arrived at Violet’s house. House, not home. Mei glanced up to the sky as she grabbed her bag and exited the car, they sky was particularly beautiful at 10 am. And as she stared at the sky, she began to enter the front porch of the house. The sky looked empty, like a blue box of no cotton.

    Where the scorching hot rays of sunshine would bounce on the surface of the earth forever. No horizon. No depth. Just crystal blue sky, a cloudless diamond, clear and shining. Its colors slowly swirled and mixed as if they were paints being mixed on a palette by a wonderful artist. And the colors deviated in a thousand shades of blue, its colors somehow calmed Mei’s, heart. Even if it's just for a while.

    After a while Mei averted her eyes at the opened garage door of the beige colored building, there’s a car in it. Looks like Violet’s parents just got home from their long holiday trip (second honeymoon Mei assumed). Which in this case could only mean one thing—Violet was either fighting or lashing out at her parents.

    Mei took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Not again.” She thought to herself before taking a deep breath and walking up to the front door. And as she did so, her father patiently waited inside the car. Usually, it was Ivory who had the patience to deal with Violet’s tantrums, with Mei in second place. But since Ivory was now—Never mind. Mei has to be the first choice nowadays.

    She knocked on the door, once, then twice, no response. She sighed once more and then shouted at the door, “Mrs. and Mr. Miller! It’s Mei!” And a few second after she did so, the brown oak wood door finally opened—but none other than Mrs. Miller herself.

    “Mei! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!” She blurted in a hurry. “Please come inside! And help us with Violet.” She added as she moved away from the door to make way for Mei.

    Mei complied and replied, “Yes Mrs. Miller, long time no see by the way.”

    Mrs. Miller looked back and smiled weakly. “Oh yeah, we were on a business trip a while ago.” She chuckled before continuing. “Most people thought we were on honeymoon, but we really not up for it this year.” She added.

    Mei laughed dryly as she followed Mrs. Miller to the living room, which was right next to Violet’s room. As they sat down on the couch, Mei glanced at Violet’s door—which she had noticed at first glance that it had some sort of scratch marks on it. “God Vi, what have you done now?” Mei thought to herself as she glanced up to Mrs. Miller.

    “So as you may have noticed, Violet has been,” Mrs. Miller paused before continuing, trying to find a less offensive word to describe her daughter other than “rebellious”. But before she had the chance to continue her sentence, Mei interrupted her.

    “I know. It’s been very hard for her, for all of us.” She explained in a calming tone, trying to assure Violet’s mother that her daughter was fine.

    “What happened when we were away?” Mrs. Miller asked, genuinely confused.

    Mei was half-surprised that they didn’t know about what happened to Ivory. It’s either Violet never told them, or she tried to but failed to send the message.

    “Ivory, she passed away recently.” She blurted out with a heavy heart.

    Mrs. Miller’s breath hitched, and her eyes became widened and she shook her head at Mei. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

    “It’s okay,” Mei answered, just because it was the safest thing to say.

    Mrs. Miller sighed. “No wonder she was aggressive when we came back.”

    “It’s understandable,” Mei excused, more to herself than the person she’s talking to.

    “Well, you better go to her now.” Mrs. Miller finally dismissed, ending the conversation.

    “Yeah,” Mei mumbled with a sigh, and right after she spoke, she removed herself from the couch and went to Violet’s doorstep.

    Right before she opened the door, she prayed to whatever being is watching over the earth right now, that things wouldn’t be as bad as it seemed.

    The prayer didn’t work.

    Mei attempted to push the door open a c***k, but it refused to go any further. But she instantly saw the cause: a mountain of dirty laundry stuffed up against it. Deftly using her foot to free the door she witnessed the full horror of Violet’s room.

    Clothes were scattered all over the floor and bed, there were leftover instant food on the desk, the bed was a mess and unmade, makeup and hair products and combs were hanging all over the place, socks were everywhere, old unused homework and important papers were ripped and scattered all on the floor along with what seemed like crumpled music sheets, the garbage can be over piled, old pictures from what seemed like a photo album were everywhere but in one piece, pens and school supplies were all over the bed. dust bunnies were strewn about the desk and under the beds.

    And lastly, there was a blood-red bass guitar, lying idly on the floor. With Violet, still in her mourning dress, curled up into a ball beside it.

    “Violet?” Mei called softly, as she tried to approach her friend—silently praying so she won’t get attacked. She gripped the shoulder straps of her bag with her hands and prepared for the worst.

    “No, don’t come here!” Violet quickly shouted at Mei. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

    Mei sighed and slowly walked to her friend. “You won’t hurt me, Violet.” She assured as she sat down next to her trembling friend. “Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.”

    “I hate my life, and it hates me back,” Violet cursed in a frustrated tone, as she pulled on the strands of hair.

    “No, what’s really wrong,” Mei replied in a firm tone.

    It took a while for Violet to answer, but she eventually did, at her own pace.

    “I wanted to play the guitar, Ivory’s guitar.” She spoke up, as her eyes stared at the ground. Her breath still unstable, but her trembling had slowly stopped. Mei asked for permission to touch her friend, Violet could only nod.

    Mei sighed, then slowly hugged her. And after Violet has adapted to her touch, Mei helped Violet to lay her head on her lap. Because the floor may not have been the best place to lay down on.

    “Mhmm, what happened next?” Mei asked as she played calmly with Violet’s hair, massaging the scalp and slowly twirling the strands.

    “I couldn’t, I just can’t,” Violet sobbed heavily, her breath suddenly became more violent.

    “No, no, no, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Mei quickly interjected as she tried desperately to try to calm Violet down. “Deep breaths.” She reminded Violet.

    “I can’t,” Violet refuted softly, as she hitched a sob.

    “Follow my heart, Violet. Sync yours with mine, just like last time.” She advised as she put one of Violet’s palm onto her chest. Slowly, Violet adjusted her breath to sync to Mei’s. And after a few minutes, Violet slowly calmed down.

    And after a while of silence, Mei finally spoke up to Violet. “So, you want to learn how to play bass?”

    Violet looked up to meet Mei’s eyes, then softly answered, “Yeah.”

    Mei flashed a soft smile to Violet and spoke, “I can help you.” She offered.

    Violet let out a dry chuckle and replied, “You can play bass?”

    Mei chuckled back at her and spoke, “No, but we can learn together.”

    Violet let out a deep sigh and said, “Sounds like a plan.”

    “But first,” Mei declared. “We gotta clean your room.”

    “Yeah,” Violet muttered as they both looked at the unholy mess that was Violet’s room, and they both laughed at the scenery.

    And as they did so, Mei’s phone had ringed. It was another call, this time from her father. Mei glanced at Violet, and Violet nodded in permission for her to take the call.

    “Hello, dad?” Mei spoke calmly.

    “Yeah, Mei. Why am I outside Violet’s house again?” The voice from the other side of the line spoke back.

    Mei chuckled and replied. “I needed to go to Violet, and it looks like we’re gonna be here for a while. So, you’re free to go home.”

    Her father laughed in what seemed like a relief. “Oh, thanks for clarifying, I was starting to think I was lost.”

    Mei chuckled at her father’s remark. “Yeah, go home safely dad. You have the GPS right?” She asked.

    “Yeah, I have it. Make sure to call me when you’re almost done!” Her father answered.

    “Yeah, I will dad. Bye for now.”

    Her father chuckled and imitated Mei’s farewell. “Bye for now, Mei”

    And for the rest of the day, they spent cleaning Violet’s room. Mei mostly doing the work, however. Because it turns out, that Violet has been very exhausted both physically and mentally for the past few days, so she couldn’t really do much even if she wanted to—to which she does want to. But she didn’t have much choice. Her only task was to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes and to bundle up into the thousands of layers of blankets on her bed. And of course, the designated DJ for the both of them.

    But Mei didn’t really mind, besides, she’s doing it for one of her best friends. And so Violet was left assigned as the music player, choosing both hers and Mei’s favorite songs to work and sing along with—though Mei was never much of a singer herself, she enjoys the tunes. At one instance, Olive had managed to spare her time to call them and see (or more appropriately, listen to) how they were doing. Which was a great boost for Violet’s well-being, as she missed talking to Olive?

     First, they cleaned up the bed because Violet desperately needs to rest comfortably. Then the floor, which was quite the pain in the neck, considering the large variety of things to sort out and throw away—but Violet’s mother had been kind enough to help her with this part. Next was the desk, and last but not least the closet. It took five to six hours to complete all of it, but it was worth it, for Violet’s sake.

    And once they were done, they had the rest of the day for themselves. With both of Violet’s parents going out of their way to leave them to their own devices them for the rest of the day. Not that they left Mei and Violet, but they just avoided them for the rest of the day—knowing full well that both Violet and Mei does not want to be bothered.

    But despite their newly gained free time, both Mei and Violet thought that it was for the best to delay the guitar lesson for another day. So, they just spent the rest of their time bundled up in Violet’s bed and talking to each other, about life and whatever else that comes to their mind—whatever it as long as it's not about Ivory. Not because they don’t want to talk about her, but because that they were unsure of how would either of them react to the topic.

    But as time progressed, the topic seemed to become unavoidable to the both of them. It seemed to have echoed in the back of their minds for quite some time now. And thus, after a personal debate with her own mind, Violet finally spoke up. Carefully choosing her words, as to not get any unwanted emotion from Mei. Because they both know that Ivory has become a very dangerous word for them.

    “I miss Ivory.”

    Mei hitched her breath but nevertheless replied. “I know, we all do.”

    “I miss her face, and I miss talking to her,” Violet added.

    “Me too,” Mei answered. And soon enough she remembered, the diary!

    “Hey, what if I told you that I found something that can help?” Mei suddenly offered as she reached for her bag, which had been lying on the ground for quite some time now.

    “Like what?” Violet questioned.

    “Well, remember when we helped Anna cleaned Ivy’s room?” Mei questioned back.

    “That was yesterday Mei, how could I not remember?” Violet answered sarcastically as she folded her arms onto her chest.

    “Yeah, yeah. Just hear me out on this.” Mei dismissed as she put the bag on her lap and opening it.

    “Ok,” Violet answered with a questioned face, as she examined what Mei pulled up out of her bag.

    A red leather book that seemed too “private looking” to be a novel, but too thick to be anything else. And as Mei flipped the book, Violet saw a glimpse of a number embossed in sable black on the front of the book. “It’s either a 3 or a 2.” Violet thought to herself. It was quite the peculiar book to Violet, and she started wondering what content it would hold inside, but that question was quickly answered by Mei.

    “Well, I think I might’ve found Ivy’s diary and smuggled it.” She nervously admitted as she pulled up the red leather book for her friend to see.

    “You what!?” Violet exclaimed, her voice rising—not out of anger, but more out of confusion.

    “Relax, I’ve only read the first page,” Mei reassured her friend as she waved the book in front of Violet’s face, somewhat beckoning Violet to read it with her.

    “It's just one of her rants anyway, but it helped me cope.” She voiced as she slowly opened the book, being very careful not to damage it.

    “Helped?” Violet questioned.

    “Eh, sort of,” Mei dismissed with a shrug.

    “Sort of,” Violet repeated, still puzzled. But, nevertheless, she couldn’t help but glance at the first page of the mysterious book. But she had managed to stop her eyes before she could read its content.

    “Just read the first page, it’s fine,” Mei teased nonchalantly, as she passed the book to Violet’s hand. She couldn’t help but thought that if one were to replace the word diary and book with drugs, it would be much more awkward than it already was.

    Violet hesitated, but before she could protest, her eyes started reading against her will. It started scanning over the words and trailing over the paragraphs, and before she knew it, she was done reading it. The words she just read still echoed in her mind, in Ivory’s voice—it was like Ivory was still alive, talking and ranting to her like she always does, right at that moment.

    Violet chuckled dryly, and her hands began to tremble once more. She didn’t know if reading the diary was somewhat helpful, or it just made things worse. It feels like it was a mix of the two, and that on its own was making things worse.

    “Vi, are you okay?” Mei asked in a soft voice.

    “No. Yes. I don’t know.” Violet replied weakly.

    “It’s okay to not know.” Mei shrugged as she picked up the book from Violet’s hand, with an intent to put it back into her bag. But before she could do so, Violet’s hand stopped her.

    “No, wait,” Violet quickly blurted out, as she gripped the book. “I...” Her words trailed off, she didn’t know what to say.

    “What?” Mei questioned as she tilted her head to one side, puzzled by Violet’s actions. Confused by Violet’s sudden change of mind.

    “I...” Violet started again. “You haven’t read the rest of it?” She finally asked.

    “Do you want me to?” Mei asked back.

    “I...No, I want us to read the rest.” Violet clarified (lied) in a soft voice, it almost seemed like she was begging to Mei.

    “Us?” Mei asked, even more, puzzled than before.

    “We could read it here, and...” She trailed off again. “You know.” She whispered, her voice soft and hushed.

    “No.” Mei quickly responded.

    “But, why?” Violet protested.

    “Because It’s not right. A diary is a person’s deepest secret, held together in words.” Mei lectured, slightly raising her voice. “There are some things that Ivory didn’t want other people to know about, even us.” She added.

    Violet sighed and surrendered because they both know that there is never saying “No.” to Mei. “I just wanted to hear more from her.” She confessed weakly.

    Mei felt the same, but she knew better than that. But maybe there could be a third option here. “Let’s just open the last entry, the entry to the last night we were together with her.” Mei piped up. “If it even exists, I mean. But maybe hearing her last thoughts would help us cope better because we weren’t exactly by her side when she...You know.” Mei added as she lay the book on her lap.

    “The last night we were together with her,” Violet repeated those specific words quietly to herself. But nevertheless Mei thought it was a question directed at her, and so she answered.

    “Yes, the last night.” She confirmed while looking her friend in the eyes. Staring and observing Violet’s clear brown eyes as if they were diamonds.

    “The funeral?” Violet questioned.

    “No.”

    “The hospital?”

    “No.”

    “Oh.” Violet finally realized. “The night before.”

    They both sighed heavily. They had managed to remember that night a little too vividly for their own good. That night where everything was normal and perfect, and real—they never knew how that night would be the last night of them together, and that’s what made it worse.

    They both remembered that the trees were dancing with the autumn wind, their leafs rustling and making a wonderful melodic symphony to accompany the wonderful scenery. At dawn the soft rustling of the dry autumn leaves that been their lullaby through the traveling time, it became a familiar song, loud enough to drown out the rest of the world.

    They both remembered that the sky was a cocktail of deep indigos. A wonderful mix of various shades of blue, purple, and ebony, making it the perfect scenery. It looks somewhat mysterious, eerie, calm, tranquil, but most of all entrancing. You can't help but look at them and wonder if there is another life up there or if you have a meaning at all.

    They both remembered that the campfire was warm and bright. With orange, yellow, and red colors dancing like two burning lovers. The light cast by the flames flared and danced across the cold wind, twisting and curling in obscure shapes and providing a small radius of light.

    The fire itself was pulsating, the glowing embers seemed to move in somewhat perfect sync with the flames, matching every dip, rise, and sweep. It was mesmerizing to watch, colors of orange and red gave way to yellow and white near the center, where the emanating heat was at its peak.

    They both remembered that their special firecracker was beautiful and sparkling, like a bright and colorful exploding flower. The sound of it was deafening, yet glorious and satisfying to hear. It had sparked wonderful memories into their minds, and it was absolutely mesmerizing to watch.

    But that night had ended almost a lifetime ago. And that fact torn into their hearts like a sharp burning blade. But, the wounds that cut the deepest are always the hardest to heal. They hold in their creases the ability to change one's life, organically, forever. Even when you somehow manage to shake them out, they've already left permanent wrinkles in the fabric of one’s soul. And that’s what kept the both of them sane this entire time.

    “So?” Mei finally spoke up, after their long silence.

    “Let’s do it,” Violet replied with a firm expression, determined to read through Ivory’s last archived thoughts.

     Log 3. 136

    Tonight’s probably going to be the last night we’re gonna be on the hill together. We might even go out of touch after this because college will definitely be more time to consuming than high school. Things would probably be crazy in the real world, and it’ll suck that we won’t talk that much.

    So I’m going to say this here and hope someone finds my diary someday—someday before we go completely out of touch.

    My dearest friends, I’ll miss you. Every night I think of what will become of us, and what our future will hold.

    Is there even a life after high school? I know that I’ll miss your familiar face, I know that I’ll miss your voice, and I will most definitely miss the way you smile. I have to tell you that I can never imagine life without being by your side, and I’ll miss us talking about life and other stuff.

    I love my mother, but each day’s another violent outburst between the two of us. So I can’t rely on “the water of the womb”, but I can rely on you. If I stop thinking about it then maybe everything won’t be so bad, I’m always overthinking. Or maybe this is normal anxiety, I can’t tell—I’ve never done this before.

    I’ll take my own advice, I’ll try to not to stress as much. And I’ll make you proud, I’m gonna make my dream come true! Tu verras!

    Ivory. B

    Once the two girls were done reading the last entry of the book, they were in tears. Why? Because they both know what’ll happen next. They both know what happened next, on that dreadful day—the day they will never forget.

    They both remembered Mei’s expression as she dropped down to her knees when she got the call. Her face went pale white as tears began to form in her eyes, and her legs felt like noodles. She could barely hold herself up after that. And both Olive and Violet helped her to feet. Mei’s head dropped down as her hair covered her face like a coal shaded curtain, as tears began to fall from behind it. Trickling down her face and dripping down to the old ceramic floor.

    They both remembered the fight Violet and Olive had in the car. Violet and Olive were arguing out of panic and frustration. Mei remembered that she desperately wanted to arbitrate them and tell them to calm down, she wanted to tell them that she’s fine now and that everything would be fine, she wanted to tell them so badly. But the words never came out. No one could look each other in the eye after the fight.

    They both remembered when Mei dashed to the ER as if death itself was on her tail. She kept running like death was on her tail, or so the saying goes—only this time, death was on someone else’s tail. Her heart pounded like drums to the beat of her feet racing over the hard ground. Yet every step seemed to take an eternity in her mind. She tried to even out her steps to keep her from falling, making a beat with each one as she reaches her destination.

    hey both remembered the horrible feeling they all felt when they accidentally heard the doctor pronounce Ivory dead. The world seemed to have shut down itself back then, grieving with the three girls. Everything seemed to have muted itself before their eyes, every noise surrounding them felt like it had been repressed and blocked out—it’s as if they were all concealed in a box made of tempered glass.

    Everything was there, but there was nothing at the same time. They felt disconnected for a moment. But then reality hit them and they were left screaming and crying for what seemed like an eternity. The world was quiet then, but then they realized that it wasn’t.

    “Do you wanna stop now?” Mei suddenly asked, still teary-eyed.

    “You think?” Violet retorted sarcastically, as she harshly wiped the tears off of her face.

    They both chuckled in unison as an attempt to lighten the mood—doing little to no influence on their current situation. So they both sighed and sat quietly on the bed, as Mei closed the book and put it bag in her bag. Revealing the number 3 on the front cover.

    “By the way.” Violet suddenly spoke up.

    “Yeah?” Mei replied, slightly tilting her head to one side.

    “Why number three?” Violet asked, genuinely curious.

    “What do you mean?” Mei asked back, not detecting the topic at hand just yet.

    “The number on the book,” Violet addressed as she pointed towards Mei’s bag—which still lies on Mei’s lap for some ridiculous reason.

    “I, actually don’t know,” Mei answered as she scratched the back of her head. “I just assumed that Ivory made a trilogy.” She joked.

    “But where are the rest?” Violet questioned.

    “No idea,” Mei responded.

    They paused for a moment, looking up to the ceiling with a defeated face—as if the ceiling had the answers to their question. They both let out a deep sigh and pressed their face against a pillow. It’s a hold habit that Olive had managed to transmit to them during sleepovers.

    They were curious. No, ‘curious’ was not the right word to describe their situation. They didn’t want answers, they need answers. Because what in the name of the universe had made Ivy this secretive from them.

    They are by far in her life, the closest people she’d known. So why keep all the secrets to herself? Sure, all that they’ve read so far are Ivy’s typical rants. But if there were truly three books out there, there has to be something she’s keeping to herself.

    Both Mei and Violet didn’t know the answers, and they’ll likely never find out. Unless they force themselves to dig deeper into the rabbit hole and solve the puzzle, that is Ivory Black.

    But then again, what would they gain from all of that? Closure? Unlikely to them. But right now, the fact still stands. They just read some of Ivory’s diary, and that on its own was already the wrong action to take. Because a diary is supposed to be a private object—as Mei just stated very clearly a few minutes ago, “A diary is a person’s deepest secrets, held together in words.”

    Mei pulled out the diary out of her bag once more and opened the last page she had read—hoping to find something resembling an answer to the current dilemma. She started reading the page, scanning through the words over and over again to make sure that she had read them correctly. And Violet sat next to her quietly doing the same thing.

    And that’s when Mei realized something.

     “So I’m going to say this here and hope someone finds my diary someday—someday before we go completely out of touch.” 

    Ivory wanted someone to find her diary! And more importantly, she wanted for whoever read this to tell her closest friends about it! That was just perfect! Because that’s exactly what Mei and Violet did, albeit they told themselves about this. But still!

    They weren’t entirely wrong for reading her diary, but she somehow still felt a tad bit guilty about smuggling the diary. Then again, if she hadn’t, they wouldn’t have found out about any of this.

    So, should they read more of Ivy’s diary? Or leave it at that?” She thought to herself, as she glanced over to Violet—who’s still re-reading the entry.

    But Violet realized something else about the entry, something completely different.

    “My dearest Mei friends, I’ll miss you. Every night I think of what will become of us, and what our future will hold.”

    There was something crossed out in that sentence, and Violet could definitely make out what it was. It was Mei’s name. The entry was meant for Mei. But come to think of it, it would make much sense. Ivy used more than enough “you” pronouns in this entry, meaning that she was addressing the entry to one person, but the word “friends” changed its meaning.

    “What the hell was Ivory thinking when she wrote this?” Violet thought to herself. But she brushed off the thought as a convenient misspelling.

    She then noticed from the corner of her eye, that Mei was glancing at her. It certainly looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. So Violet glanced back at Mei and stared at her eyes for a few seconds, before realizing that the gesture had made the situation much more awkward than before. So, Violet cleared her throat and finally spoke up.

    “Yes?” Violet spoke, hoping it’ll encourage Mei to talk.

    “You see it too don’t you?” Mei asked back, referring to her new discovery from the diary entry.

    “See what?” Violet asked, completely oblivious to what Mei meant. Her first thought was that Mei also saw what she saw in the entry. But seeing that she could be wrong about that, so she didn’t mention it.

    “The sentence here,” Mei clarified, pointing at what she meant. “She hoped that someone would discover her diary and tell us about it.” She added as she drew little circles around the sentence with her finger.

    “Oh yeah, that. Yeah, I noticed it too.” Violet lied. “So what are we going to do?” She asked, more to herself than Mei.

    “I...I don’t know.” Mei admitted in a confused and concerned tone. “Should we read more? Or...” Her sentence was interrupted the sound of Violet’s mother from the living room.

    “Mei, it’s 6 pm! I think you should be calling your dad right about now!” She shouted. “He must be worried sick!” She shouted once more.

    “Yeah, I will!” Mei shouted back, as she reached for her phone.

    “So, you’re going home?” Violet questioned.

    “Well, I don’t want to worry my dad. Plus It’s getting late already.” She stated as a matter-of-factly.

    “Makes sense.” Violet retorted with a sigh. “But what are you going to do with the book?” She asked.

    “I don’t know yet, I’ll decide when I’m home,” Mei mused as she scrolled her contacts, for her dad’s contact id. “And I won’t make many big decisions anyway. Also, we need to tell Olive about this.” She added.

    “Yeah, I’ll do that part for you,” Violet replied as she got out from the bed to stretch.

    “Oh, thanks,” Mei articulated as she called her father, which promptly made Violet go quietly as to not disturb the call.

    “Mei? Where have you been!?” Her father shouted from the other side of the call. “I’ve looked everywhere in the house! I was starting to panic!” He added.

    “Dad, I’m at Violet’s house,” Mei stated in a calming tone. “You told me to call you when I was done here, I’m done now.” She added. She heard a sigh of relief from the other side of the call, it seemed that her father has remembered what had happened now. Which was good, because Mei was currently not in a good mood to explain everything right now.

    “Okay, I’m going there now. Wait in her house for like, 15 minutes. Okay?” Her father asked, in a much calm tone than before.

    “Okay, bye dad,” Mei closed the conversation and hung up on the call.

    “So...” Mei sing-songed, as she glanced back at Violet, who was currently getting up on the bed again. “I’ve got 15 minutes.”

    “Wanna make out?” Violet jested.

    “Nah,” Mei replied as she held back her laughter, making Violet smirk at her.

    “Left-over pizza?” Violet offered.

    “Yep,” Mei replied immediately.

    Now that she’s back at home, Mei had all the time to herself. Since there’s no school and college was weeks away, this was the perfect time to do anything. And right now, she was laying down in her bed and staring at the ceiling. Because at this point, she doesn’t even know what to do—which was a very rare occurrence for Mei White.

    Should she tell Olive? No, Violet’s going to do that for her. Should she read the diary again? No, She’s too emotionally drained to do so.

    “Mhmm...What to do?” Mei thought to herself as she sat up.

    “Maybe I should work on my novel again, I haven’t touched my computer for weeks now.” She thought to herself once more, as she got up from her bed and made her way to her desk.

    And as soon as she turned on her computer, she started writing her story again. Thousands of words began to form in her mind, too fast to write down at certain times. And she kept writing for about an hour until she realized that the only things she’s been thinking about are Ivory and her diary.

    She couldn’t get the thought out of her head, and she started realizing that it had affected a lot of her writing. She’s not writing like she used to—she’s not writing “normally”. Mei has had writer’s block all the time, but this case was very different.

    A writer's block is a condition, most often associated with writing, in which an author loses the ability to produce new work, or experiences a creative slowdown. The condition ranges in difficulty from coming up with original ideas to being unable to produce a work. Most people would describe it as something similar to one’s mind being blank. A white and empty page, with no speck of ink on it whatsoever.

    But Mei’s mind wasn’t blank, no, her mind was filled with thousands of words. But those words aren’t the words she’s looking for. It’s a very strange and somewhat awkward feeling to her. And she usually starts free writing and brainstorming, clustering, list making, and engaging with the text when her writer's block hits. So she decided that she needed some brainstorming to do.

    She lay back down in her bed, turned her phone on for some inspirational music, and closed her eyes. But, it didn’t work. Her mind kept going back to the diary, that ominous red book was starting to haunt her life.

    It’s a puzzle, it’s a maze. She couldn’t steer through it if she tried, that is for today’s case. Maybe one day she would get over it, but today was not the day. So she just decided that she should just go to sleep for the night, she needed the rest anyway.

    But after laying completely still for ten minutes in her bed, she realized that she couldn’t sleep. Her thought kept echoing in her mind like a hurricane, it was like there were a thousand people sitting on her bed and shouting right at her.

    She tossed and turned and even her pillow on top of her head to drown out the fictional voices around her.

    “Why would Ivory keep secrets from us? From me?”

    “Are there more diaries?”

    “Why’d she start a diary in the first place?”

    “What was she thinking when she wrote it?”

    “Why did she want us to find out about it?”

    “Naze?”

    “Naze?”

    “Naze kanojo wa kanojo ni yatte iru nodesu ka?”

    All these and much more thoughts echoed in her mind, and it was starting to overwhelm her. She needs to put her thoughts out, but how? Even if she were to attempt writing what was inside her head, her thoughts were too quick to even listen to. But there was really no harm in trying it now, what is there to lose? Even if she does fail, she’ll only lose her sleep. Who knows, maybe it’ll jog up some ideas for her novel.

    So she went back to her desk, turned on the computer, and started writing. As quick as her fingers could manage. Alphabets turned into pages in what seemed like a fraction of a second, any sane man would think she was writing her will at this point. But she doesn’t stop, she couldn’t if she tried. She was too far gone into the frenzy that if she were to stop now, she’ll never be able to sleep again.

    So she kept typing, with the occasional stop to fix her glasses back onto her face. And before she even realizes, it’s already 1 am. And she was already on her one hundredth something page. She would write more, but her fingers and wrists were beginning to hurt. And it would be very bad for her health to stay up too late.

    She smiled as she saves the document, and closed the computer. She slowly went back to her bed and laid down. She took a deep sigh and exhaled slowly, and closed her eyes. Yet, she still couldn’t sleep.

    “She what!?” Olive exclaimed as she plopped herself into her bed, her phone still held to her ear.

    “Yeah, it’s crazy I know, but think about it oily,” Violet teased from the other side of the call.

    “Please stop calling me oily,” Olive begged with an unimpressed tone.

    “No.” Violet promptly stated.

    “So anyway, what should we do now?” Olive asked, attempting to route the conversation back to the topic at hand.

    “That’s the thing.” Violet paused, “We don’t know.”

    “Well, that’s helpful,” Olive remarked with a dry laugh.

    “Anyways, what are your plans?” Violet articulated, ignoring Olive’s previous sarcastic remark.

    “You tell me,” Olive replied dryly. “We can’t return the book because we’ve gone too far into our sin to do that.” She stated as she twirls the ends of her hair.

    “But we can’t really keep it either do we? I mean that’s basically stealing.” Violet added. “From our best friend, who is dead.” She added, pausing more than enough between each word.

    “Well, maybe we can,” Olive suggested. “I mean, you told me that Mei told you that Ivy wants us to have the book.” She clarified, making hand gestures in the air, completely forgetting the fact that they were talking through a voice call.

    “But we both know that we would all feel guilty for it,” Violet reasoned.

    “So, what are you suggesting?” Olive questioned.

    “Well, I’m thinking we should read it anyway.” Violet enunciated after a pause.

    “You’re contradicting yourself.” Olive pointed out with a chuckle, certainly not making light of the matter. More accurately trying to light up the atmosphere surrounding the matter.

    “I know, but what else are we going to do?” She whispered with a sigh following after. “If we don’t read it, we’ll be curious for the rest of our lives.”

    “But if we do read it, we’ll be guilty of the rest of our lives,” Olive added, still being neutral in the situation.

    “So, what should we do?”

    “I say we read it.” Olive declared after a minute of pause, finally deciding to take a side in the situation. “I trust that Ivory is loyal enough to us as to not have any major secrets in her diary.” She added.

    “Me too,” Violet added. “All I’ve read so far are her typical rants, so I’m sure it’s fine.” She added.

    “But what about Mei?” Olive questioned.

    “She probably doesn’t want to read it,” Violet answered.

    “I’ll see if I can change that tomorrow,” Olive replied. Because as everyone may have known, she was quite the persuasive person.

    “I’ll ask her to come here tomorrow, then I’ll give her the talk,” Olive added as she shifted her position in the bed.

    “Eew.” Violet promptly commented facetiously.

    “Not that talk you yo-yo,” Olive chattered with a hearty laugh.

    “Yo-yo?” Violet questioned as she held back her laugh.

    “Shut up,” Olive prattled with a pout.

    “You hear it here folks, Olive McKenzie has insults!” Violet announced as the both of them burst into laughter.

    “Well anyway, I gotta sleep.” Olive disclosed as she wiped her eyes.

    “Same. Talk tomorrow?” Violet offered.

    “We’ll see,” Olive replied calmly as she hung up the call.

    Olive laid on her back and stared at the ceiling. “God Ivory, what have you done to us?” She thought to herself as she slowly drifts off to sleep. However, it may not be a good sleep. In fact, it was a sleep filled with nightmares of the same face. Ivory.

    Most people and even her parents thought that she was the calmest of the three girls after Ivory’s death. But what they don’t know is that her cheery attitude, or at least what was left of it, was just there to test out Anna’s theory.

    It worked most of the time. But when the night comes and there’s no one to impress with that smile of hers, the smile starts to fall apart. And the truth is, she was as shaken as Violet and Mei. Not in the same way, however.

    Most of the time, she was fine. But her dreams would always explain otherwise. There were thousands of twisted scenarios in Olive’s dreams where Ivory had died, in many horrible ways compared to the car crash. The pain she could have gone through, Olive felt for herself.

    Some dreams even have a happy ending, where Ivory had survived the car crash and continued to live peacefully with the rest of them. Some dreams didn’t even feature horrible scenarios, they were just of Ivory living normally with the rest of the group—like nothing had happened.

    And this is what was happening to Olive, every night ever since Ivory had died. Just suffering, every night. Fighting things that weren’t even real. In every dream, she was always there beside Ivory. Every night, Olive would watch her die right in front of her eyes, unable to stop it even if she tried. And that’s what made it worse.

    And so that night, Olive slept as usual. Knowing that tomorrow will be another day. Another day where it would continue, or another day where it would stop.