Dear "Journal into the past,"

Its been a week, maybe more, I haven't counted. All I can count are the days, hours, minutes, seconds that Rachel isn't here.

I'm supposed to talk-write-about what I've gained?

I've gained a longing for my best friend, my sister.

I've gained the knowledge of how to live without her.

I've gained the pity of everyone we both know.

I've also gained Rachel's parent's hatred. "You were the one who was supposed to die, not her."

I'm not blaming them for acting like that. In fact, I believe them, I agree with them. If anything, God should've killed us both instead of leaving one of us alive.

Well you know what, "Journal into the past"? Let me tell you a secret.

We wanted to crash. It was a planned 'accident'. We were to be remembered as "foolish teens" and we'd be done with our lives. We'd have the front covers for maybe a day or two, and then the world would keep turning and we'd be forgotten.

It was the perfect plan. No one would've suspected that an "accidental" car crash was a suicide. We would've been free.

We planned it, and only Rachel succeeded. Why did I have to fail? This would've been a perfect escape if it weren't for that one little thing that went wrong.

What went wrong?