Amaya Nakamura's Journal

[you notice that this page is spotted with a few tears]

7/13/2034

It's day three and I've used every trick I can use on her. She doesn't know a thing, and can't get into my diary. I just hope I haven't made her more curious.

It's about time I shared this with someone, even if it's a piece of paper in a journal. It's plagued me for a little over a year. It's almost a memory fresh as one I have from today's bakery visit.
It was before my birthday, in April. I'd been spiraling into a little depression and fighting with our parents. I wanted to hang out with my only friend, who they didn't like because of his strange behaviour. He was a silly bot, one who was interesting in the same things as me. His weird sense of humour was something I loved. But they wouldn't let up.
Everything was wrong with me, so they thought. The dark music I liked, my dark clothes, my quirks and faults. Was I a lion dressed as a sheep, or a sheep dressed as a lion? I still don't know that answer.
But that day...I snapped. They tried an intervention, one of many. But this time they'd decided to hold my hand and not let me go until I'd heard them out. I wouldn't be able to leave halfway through and lock myself in my room again. I wouldn't be able to escape and find Caleb.
They took my hand, looked at me with eyes filled with worry. My dad's were chocolate, just like mine and Amy's. We'd got it from him- and the hair. But were were pretty like our mom. Their hands were warm from holding each others, trying to conjure up the bravery.
They'd begun talking. In my rage, I'd lost some of it to the darkness of memory. They just wanted me to be sweeter, to trust them more. I wanted nothing to do with it.
"What is it you're trying to gain?" my mother had asked.
My reply rings in my ears daily now. "You know what I want? Space. And apparently I won't get it until you guys fuck off and leave me alone!" They were shocked that I was using curse words. "I never get alone time anymore! You grill me every day about every little thing I do! All I want is space, and I won't get it until you guys die in a hole somewhere, so just do it!"
Their eyes suddenly grew hazed. They stood upright, let go, and left. I thought nothing of it and stormed off into my room. Amy tried to console me, but all I did was turn up the music.
That's when I saw them.
Our parents.
Digging holes in the backyard in the middle of the night. I can't figure out why. Perhaps there weren't holes nearby so they decided to make them.
I was confused and shocked.
Even more so when my father began to bury my mother alive.
She didn't fight it. Didn't squirm, didn't flinch when the dirt hit her face. She just took it.
When I broke out of that shocked haze, I'd opened my window and rushed out. He wouldn't stop no matter what. I shoved him to the ground, but he got up and continued.
I did what I could without bothering Amy: I ran to the police station.
By the time I returned, our mother had already suffocated. Our father gone, disappeared. I explained what happened, and a kind lady referred me to Beata. And on my request, they kept it from my sister.
I told her that our parents had left, that I couldn't explain it and I didn't know when they'd come back.
A week later, they found our father dead. He'd jumped off a cliff and broken his neck on impact. He'd died instantly.

I...can't believe I've finally got this off my chest. All I can do now is hope nobody ever finds this, especially Amy. I'll tell her when the time is right. When she's ready to hear it. I don't need her ending up like me.

When we were going through their things, we found a present for me in my room. We opened it to find a red military jacket with gold detail and buttons. All I could do was hold it and cry. They'd loved me and I was blind to it. They'd even bought me a new jacket to replace one I'd had forever, and it was a jacket I had seen months ago at a fair.
It was the last gift they'd ever wrap. One they'd never be able to give.
I did manage, however, to wrap and give Amy her birthday and Christmas presents from them after that. All I told her was that they'd gotten it for her and I felt it was right to gift it anyway.

Now I just want to ask someone if I can wear my red jacket over my uniform. I've worn it every day since I got it, after all. I don't really want to give that up now.

I suppose now it's time for another terrible night. I'll wake at midnight like always after I dream of all this and perhaps another version of events. I'll fall back asleep an hour later.
I'm not sure what I want more: emotional peace or a good night's rest.