Dead Diary : Part 1

My name is Bobby Bones.

Now I know what you're thinking, my last name is Bones?

Yeah my old man legally changed his last name from Winfield to Bones back in 88 cause he wanted to be a famous rapper back in the day.

His career never really went anywhere but he kept the name, god knows why?

I'm a senior in college I turned twenty two back in January

Apart from my weird name I would say i'm a pretty average guy or I was until my ex girlfriend cheated on me and I spiraled into a crippling depression.

Yup eight years down the drain in one shitty day.

My therapist says that I should try writing my feelings down in a journal or diary.

So I guess this is a day one documentation of my shitty life.

I haven't spoken to anyone in person for over a week or two, never really been alone before.

How I got where I am today well that's a bit complicated so long story short.

I distanced myself from all my old friends, ditched my dorm mates and moved into the really shitty part of town where nobody knows me and the rent is cheap enough for me to live in by myself

I can't bring myself to see any of my old friends again or reply to there messages online.

I ghosted everyone and made sure nobody knew where I was staying.

I feel too ashamed and embarrassed to face them and I don't wanna see my ex with someone else again either.

The worst part is when I see her smile or hear her laugh and carry on like nothing happened around campus or on my way home.

Whenever we make eye contact I can tell she was mocking me with just a glance I know she enjoys seeing me suffer, and I can't take it anymore.

For the first time in my life I wanted to hit a woman, I wanted to die, I feel gross just thinking about laying my hands on her too.

I'm disgusted in myself.

THAT EVIL BITCH!

Why does she get to be happy!?

Fuck!

Karma isn't real, nothing but a load of bullshit.

I'm going to burn this diary when i'm done with it so I guess I should be honest with myself.

Not like I got anything better to do.

As much as I hate my cheating lying whore of an ex-girlfriend I still love her deeply.

Hell if she were to knock on my door right now and ask me to get together again, I know I would say yes in a heart beat.

Just thinking about that makes me so angry I want to vomit.

God I hate myself...

I don't know why I feel this way for her maybe it's because she was my first serious relationship?

Having someone you've known for eight years just suddenly betray your trust and torment you for fun...

It's fucking awful.

My folks are none the wiser, every week I'll send them a smiling selfie of me with a cheery caption to get them off my back.

I don't want to bother or worry my folks, they don't even know I moved out yet.

I know I'll have to be honest with them one day and tell them the truth but that day is not today.

This is depressing I guess I'll talk about the house now.

It was a nice white and black big two story house, old and gated with two meter tall spiked fences, nearly identical to all the other houses on the block.

It was very spacious and cheap I could probably have a family or two living with me and I would still have plenty of room.

The downside was that the place seems to be always infested with rats and roaches no matter how many traps or exterminators I call; they never seem to die off completely.

Lotta gang violence in the area too.

To the point where hearing a few gunshots throughout the day and night was the norm.

Anything less than three gun shots in a day was considered unusual.

On the bright side it's a lot easier to score, after all my local dealer Donny was living next door.

I didn't even need to leave my house to score I could just buy it from my backyard and have it tossed over to my side.

Cops don't come around these parts even if you call em, unless there's a dead body to clean up.

Learned that one the hard way when one night some obese drunk junkie somehow managed to get over my fence and took a shit on my front door.

Crazy fucker started banging on the front door screaming to let him in.

Took me getting my gun and firing a few warning shots to chase the fat bastard away.

I tell you what ain't nothing more stranger than seeing some three hundred pound man climb a spiked two meter fence with ease while his shit stained pants were down.

Ever since that day I've kept my loaded hunting rifle by my bedside.

I think I've talked enough about the house...

Well I guess that's it for day one.