Dear Diary,

Sun snuck through the blinds this morning, painting stripes on my bedspread like always. Except, usual mornings meant racing downstairs for breakfast with enough time to catch the bus with trinity. Now, the quiet sunshine just makes the hollowness of the day feel bigger.

School. I miss it, the sound of chattering friends and the smell of old text books. Honestly, I even miss the disg...

Today is my last day.

I’m writing this to my family.

Thank you all. I will miss you. You were my pride and joy. I love you all. So much… I’m surprisingly calm about this. Today is my last day to live. Which also means the pain is over. The pain. The pain. The pain. The pain. It will all be over. I’m praying that ghosts are real. Or the afterlife. Anything. Praying on anything. I hope I’m not jus...

I know I’m going to die soon. I heard the nurses talking to my parents when they thought I wouldn’t hear. I like to eavesdrop. I sometimes pretend to be asleep or I stuff pillows under my sheets, so it looks like I’m in it. They must not know ‘cause I know everything they say about me. Everyone here thinks I’m naive because I’m their “youngest patient,” but they’d be surprised to know they’re wron...

Hope is a feverish disease, and I am sick with it. I find myself incessantly yearning for another day, another hour, another fleeting moment, as if the mere extension of existence could cure the ailment that is life. But that is never enough, as to hope for more time is to yearn for an escape from the abyss, yet the abyss stares back, unyielding.

In the chaos of what is my mind, I imagine what I...

I was told I’m not going to live to see my 23 birthday. Might as well leave something behind.

Yesterday I was told I have a rare for if cancer that is immune to all forms of radiation and chemo.

I just went in for a damn check up! And this is what I get?!

I want to say that “this could be worst” but how worst could it possibly get when I have months to live and I know what will kill me in the e...

Dear Diary,

I know this wiil be my last day. I can”t say how I know this. It has to do with my intuition and serendipitous nature.

What i write will surprise those who read this page in my diary. Please know that I’m ready to depart. I can’t tell you where i am going., but a dream prepared me. Years ago I was asleep when I received a visit from my Aunt Hazel, who died from myasthenia gravis...

10th June

𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖞,

I am afraid it’s getting worse. I don’t know how much longer my body will hold out.

*I have so much life yet to live, so many things I wish I had done. Now, stuck here in a hospital bed listening to the rhythmic beeps of my heart rate, I can’t do anything.

All I will do, all I can do, is wait.

11th June

𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖞,

The doctors told me it’s a matter of day...

They say I’m crazy. They say i’ve lost my mind. But i can see the things they can’t. Don’t blame me when they are gone. They dug too deep, found treasure, and got too eager. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay....

Dear diary, it looks like this is the end. I’ve led a good life, experienced both great joy and great sorrow. I’ve felt the love of my family, in fact, I feel it now. Even now they are gathering downstairs to say their final goodbyes. I struggle to write these words, to bid farewell to the world. Even though I had a full life, I feel there is much that needs to be done still. An overpowering sense...

Dear diary,

I have received the worst news. Though it is not unexpected. I have been feeling terrible for weeks, and now I know why, and I wish I could say it is a comfort… I still hate the news. I am dying, and sooner than is fair. I am sick, and the doctors can do nothing for me.

I have thought a long time before writing my thoughts down, thinking what I can say, what I should say. What do you ...