Things to do before I die #1

When I first started the blog, on my 'about me' colomn, I told you that there were a lot of things I wanted to do before I die and now would be a good time to start as I have no new writing to share yet.  I'll only share one today and save the rest for later!

1.  Go Bungee Jumping!
I've heard comments that its awesome and some that it isn't worth it, but hey you have to give it a go for yourself right!  I love adrenaline rushes and trying new things and I definitely want to do it off a really tall bridge!  Woo!  It is just one of those things that need to be done!  Let me know if you've ever done it!

Unspoken

I have another entry for the Seventeen magazine contest I would like to share with you!    I wasn't quite sure how to end this one as it could only be 500 words and I received some feedback that maybe it would be more suspenseful if I hadn't included the last couple sentences.  Tell me what you think as I am open to all comments and critisizm.  It is called unspoken!

Unspoken

The physiologist, Mary, gestured for Vienna to sit on the plush couch.  Mary sat across from her, a clipboard in hand.   “I want you to be honest.  What is on your mind, right at this moment?”  She leaned forward, intently listening.  Vienna had no idea why she was sitting in this office room with an unknown woman, so she answered with her go-to response, “Nothing.”  Mary wrote something on her clipboard and then looked at the young girl curiously.  “You need to be completely honest.  Pretend I’m your best friend.”  Vienna crossed her legs on the couch and shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t have a best friend.”  The physiologist started moving her pen across the paper again, then turned her head up to look at the seventeen year old, “Vienna, maybe a journal would be the best solution.  A lot of people find it easier in expressing their feelings.  Here.”  She handed Vienna a black journal who took it cautiously; unsure of what she was getting into.  

Dear Journal,

November 1, 2011

I always thought journals were for messed up people who had issues telling other people their problems.  Since I’m writing in this black journal, I guess that makes me one of those people.  The truth is, however, that I’m not afraid to tell my problems.  The thing is; maybe no one wants to listen. 

I hate it when people tell you they will be there no matter what and then when you need them the most, they’re never there.  It’s happened so many times to me, that I stopped trusting people and chose to rely only on myself. 

Three months ago, my brother died, and although my parents told me I could come to them with anything, every time I tried to bring up his death or tell them the truth about it, they just closed up.  The standard answer was, “I’m just not ready to talk about him so openly yet.”  I suffered from it.  It meant I had to keep a secret even longer and the secret bit away at my conscience.

There is a letter, a letter that could have changed the outcome of so many things, most importantly the fate of my brother.  If only…then he would still be here.  I thought about ripping it up, but then what proof would I have?  I want to tell them what it says, how he showed all the signs of suicide and how I could have stopped it if I’d only told someone.

 It’s too late now, I know that, but please mom and dad, don’t shut me out like you did to him.  You’ve already lost one child and the other one won’t be far behind if she keeps getting put away.

-Vienna

Vienna left the journal on the dresser in her parents’ bedroom, with the cover open and the letter attached.  Mary was right, writing it down made it easier to communicate, especially when spoken words had no influence.