Chapter Eleven
I curl up in my bed and stare at it.
I’m almost finished with it. There aren’t very many more entries.
I pick up the journal and place it on the pillow beside me.
“I’m not going to read you,” I whisper.
Although, if I read what’s left, I’ll be finished. Having seen Atlas
tonight and knowing he has a girlfriend and a job and more than
likely a home is enough closure I need on that chapter. And if I just
finish the damn journal, I can put it back in the shoebox and never
have to open it again.
I finally pick it up and roll onto my back. “Ellen DeGeneres, you
are such a bitch.”
Dear Ellen,
“Just keep swimming.”
Recognize that quote, Ellen? It’s what Dory says to Marlin in Finding
Nemo.
“Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.”
I’m not a huge fan of cartoons, but I’ll give you props for that one. I like
cartoons that can make you laugh, but also make you feel something. After
today, I think that’s my favorite cartoon. Because I’ve been feeling like
drowning lately, and sometimes people need a reminder that they just need to
keep swimming.
Atlas got sick. Like really sick.
He’s been crawling through my window and sleeping on the floor for a few
nights in a row now, but last night, I knew something was wrong as soon as I
looked at him. It was a Sunday, so I hadn’t seen him since the night before, but
he looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin was pale, and even though it
was cold, his hair was sweaty. I didn’t even ask if he was feeling okay, I
already knew he wasn’t. I put my hand on his forehead and he was so hot, I
almost yelled for my mother.