Okay, so I got inspiration for this chapter from the song 'Cry today, smile tomorrow' by Anthony Ramos.  I just put on play Anthony Ramos b/c he has an amazing voice and this song came on.  Its a really good song, and I definitely recommend listening to it!

~Author

I bring the notebook to my bed, holding it tightly to my chest.

This was the first time in the past weeks I had felt relief.  I know it sounds stupid.  Just seeing the notebook, the words that he had written, and about me.  He felt like he was there, right next to me.

I feel the tears at the corner of my eyes.  They was to be let go.  It was useless to keep them in.  I let them fall, I let myself cry.  I cry because of John, because I never really knew what was going on in his mind.  I cry because I feel relived.  I cry because I fear that I should not be relived.

I calm down.  I flip open the book, and find tear stained pages.  This was almost like the living memory of John.  No, this was John, it was the real John.  The John that no one knew.

I hear the door open and two pairs of feet dragging on the hard wood of the kitchen.

Maybe its just the pills working, I get up from the bed and walk out to the kitchen.

They both are looking down.  There faces were showing not a single emotion.

They have two of the reusable bags in there hands filled with just common stuff, the stuff that you would need through the week.

"How ya doing?" Herc asks me, finally making eye contact.

"Better," I feel a lump in my throat.  Maybe it wasn't the best to lie to there, but what other choice do I have?  

I did kinda feel better right?

John pov.

He found the notebook. I watched him as he read through it, I watched helpless as he cried.  I wanted to hold him, I wanted to comfort him, tell him that everything was going to be alright.  I just couldn't.  

I notice how he had changed.  His hair was greasy, his eyes looked like they were always red and puffy (probably from crying).  His sulked around most of the day, and his grades went down from straight A's to C's and D's.  

I read from my journal over his shoulder and feel myself tense as I see what he was reading.  It was how I felt in words, but even then it didn't seem like enough words to tell him.

He closed the book and tilts his head back.  He closes his eyes, and is showing me an emotion I can't identify.  The tears come slowly.  He opens his eyes again wiping them with the sleeve of his shirt before hoisting himself up off the ground.

He drags his feet on the floor as I follow him to the kitchen.

Not the pills again! He was just easing off of them!

I feel myself flinch as he gulps one pill down.  He lays down on the couch, legs draped over the arm.

He sits there for a while, maybe waiting for his mind to clear of thought.

He gets up again.  I wait for him to go back to his room but instead he goes back to the bottle of pills.

No!

I want to stop him, he should only take one!  

I can't do anything and again I feel helpless.  

I'm just useless!  Why the hell am I even here if I can't do anything!

He reads on when we get back to his room, and I can't bare him crying anymore.  

I go over to him and wrap my non-existence arms around him.  He relaxes in my arms.  He brings the book to his chest, and lets a few more tears go.

Did I do that?

Thanks for reading!

Next part will be out Saturday!

~Author