Dear Clara,
                My life is falling apart. It seems like when I lost you, I had started losing everything. My parents are no longer together. I am getting more sick. I am going to have to drop out of school soon. And the latest, the fight with Stephanie. I still can't believe I had actually slapped her in the face. She has a red mark now on her right cheek.

When I realised Mr Richard had seen what had happened between us, I was terrified. But he had completely ignored the fact that it was I who had hit her. In fact, he was harsher to Stefanie. There was no way he could have heard what she said to me. It was very strange. He even asked me if I was alright. Maybe I am reading into it too much. Maybe he is just pitying me, I don't know.

It is getting harder for me to write. My handwriting is getting smaller. But I am not going to stop writing to you. Talking to you is the only thing that keeps me sane. I wish the clock would go back to a time when we were careless teenagers - you dreaming about your future as an actress, and me writing scripts for you. Those dreams now seem so meaningless. So unreal. So stupid.

I have found a safe hideout for our diary. I am keeping it beneath the floorboard under my bed. I discovered that this particular floorboard is loose and easy to move. Old houses have their own perks, I guess.
                                                                                            With Love,
                                                                                            Mel.
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The front doorbell rang loudly, startling me for a minute. It might be Mom, returning after talking to the Counselor about my situation. I got up slowly and opened the door.

             "Hey." Piercing green eyes greeted me and for a second, I saw Clara. When I blinked, her older brother, Chris, was standing by the doorframe. His hands were in his pockets and a shy smile danced on his lips.

"Hi, Chris." I didn't know much about her brother except the fact that he is a really nice person and loved Game of Thrones. Clara often talked of him when we were young. For a few awkward moments, we sat on the living room couch without saying anything. I had no idea why he had suddenly decided to visit me. He probably thought I won't be alone.

  "Um, would you like something to drink?" I asked him.

  "Just water please, thanks. I am really sorry about your parents."

   "It is alright."I stood up to go and get him his glass of water.

    He was fumbling with his shirt ends and looked strangely nervous. He was pacing the room, when I returned. His hands were cold when they grazed against mine to get the glass. He took a second too long to let go of my hand, his emerald eyes never leaving mine.

         "Is something wrong?" Hearing my question, he let go of his shirt ends and stood up.

         "No. I just wanted to tell you something."

       "Okay."

        "I really like you Melinda, not as a friend, something more. I have always liked you."

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Author's Note:
                Hope you liked this chapter. Do vote and Comment. ❤️