The Terrible Life of Arabella Rose

10-11-11:

(8:00 pm)

Why do I have an eating disorder?

-Because no matter what, I know I'm not skinny enough.

Why do I cut myself?

-Because the physical pain takes away the emotional pain for a little while.

Why do I smoke weed?

-Because when I'm high, I feel happy for once.

Why do I only have one friend?

-Because I quit trusting everyone else.

Why do I want to kill myself?

-Because I'm worthless.

Why did I start this journal?

-Because if one day I go through with it, you will know how miserable I truly was.

10-12-11:

(9:00 pm)

Journals have always pissed me off. But if I die I want you to know about me, why I am the way I am. That's why I'm going to deal with it. My birthday is tomorrow. I turn seventeen. One day closer to death, hurray!

10-13-11:

(7:00 pm)

Happy birthday to me. My friend came over today. Her name is Bridget. She has very dark red hair. I like to say “Bridge, you got blood in your hair.”

She laughs, and every time she replies the same. “Arabella, you have emeralds in your eyes.” I think she could come up with something better. Maybe, “You've got skin as pale as a dead woman.” But maybe that's just me and my morbid self.

(8:00 pm)

Bridget: Come on, Bella.

Me: Don't call me “Bella.” I don't date a sparkly vampire.

Bridget: Fine. But you have to eat cake. It's your birthday.

I glared at her.

Bridget: You won't get fat. You aren't even fat now. What have you eaten today?

Me: A bowl of cereal, and a small sandwich.

Bridget: Seriously Bell, you got to stop this.

Me: No.

I ended up eating one slice. That means even less food for tomorrow.

10-14-11:

(11:30 am)

My emerald green eyes are blood shot from crying myself to sleep last night. I thought birthdays were supposed to be good. That was probably the worst one yet. I got a few clothes and shoes as gifts. That's not the problem though. I feel like the older I get, the more empty and ugly I get.

(1:00 pm)

I took a shower and my chocolate brown hair dried super flat. I wish it was wavy and had more volume. At least I have my bangs. They cover my right eye. I weighed myself when I got out of the shower. It came up 125. Still too high.

(6:00 pm)

I'm lucky that when I smoke weed, I don't get the munchies. I smoked three bowls of pineapple kush with Bridget today. We got pretty high and had a good time. I wish I could be high 24/7. Maybe then I wouldn't hate my life so much.

(10:30 pm)

My parents went to bed early tonight. I'm not sure why. But that meant I had time to cut. I haven't done it in awhile, and don't worry, I didn't do it too deep. I never do it too deep. I also don't do it up/down my wrist. I do it across. I'm not looking to die by cutting my wrist, just to mask the emotional pain for a while. I also don't do it on my inner wrist. I do it on the top of my forearm, it's less obvious. Tomorrow is Monday, I will just tell my classmates that my cat scratched me. They always believe me.

p.s: If I were to commit suicide, there are three ways I would contemplate doing it. Either drowning, hanging or over dosing. NEVER cutting. Or stabbing. Or anything to do with knives for that matter. Knives hurt too much.

10-15-11:

(3:30 pm)

My classmates believed me, as I had predicted. One guy in my class named Jack said to me, “Must be a viscous cat you have, it seems to scratch you a lot.”

I smiled. “Or it just hates me,” I had replied. Like everyone else.

(7:00 pm)

Sometimes I wonder why my parents don't realize the emotional state I am in constantly. Why they don't see through the lies of “I ate a lot at school,” when they know half the time I am never there. Why they don't look at my arms and see the cuts that the “cat” gave me. The cat barely does anything but sleep. That's why we named him Pillow. Then I remember that they are big business people. They don't have enough time to see that their seventeen year old daughter is not okay. Maybe they think that my older brother Jason takes care of me. I don't know why they would though, when he went to college three years ago.

(7:30 pm)

I ate three slices of pizza total today. They were all small, and only contained cheese. I think I am doing good. At least when I don't eat now, it doesn't continue to make me almost faint.

10-16-11:

(5:00 pm)

I met a boy at the park today. I was trying to be alone and he came along and ruined it. He just had to sit next to me on the bench. I knew I should have put my bag there. His name was Lucas. I think he was around my age, if not a year or so older.

Lucas: Hey.

Me: Hi.

Lucas: Nice day, isn't it?

Me: No.

Lucas: Why not?

Me: It never is.

Lucas: A bit of a pessimist, eh?

Me: Look, can you just go away?

Lucas: You're strange. But that's cool.

Me: Again? Go away?

Lucas: If that's what you really want. But you'll see me again.

He left after that. “You'll see me again.” I bet he's full of s**t. Even if I do, by any chance see him again, I am not going to talk to him.

10-30-11:

I told you that I hate journals. P.S I still haven't seen Lucas. Halloween is tomorrow. My favorite day. I can talk about death to anyone and not be seen as some freak.

11-6-11:

(4:00 PM)

I had to talk to the principal today.

Principal: You haven't been to any classes since the 15^th of October.

Me: What about it?

Principal: High absence rates mean you are not learning as well as you could be. It will be hard for you to catch up.

Me: I learn on my own. School is for losers.

I walked out after that.

(9:00 pm)

Bridget came over today.

She said some guy asked about me.

“What was his name?” I inquired.

“Lucas.”

I stared at her.

“How do you know him?” I asked.

“He's my neighbor,” She replied promptly.

Damn. He must have seen me when I dropped off the book All We Know of Heaven at her house the other day.

“Let him in, trust him,” She pleaded. She always told me I needed a guy around, since my brother never was. “It would also be good to have a romantic interest,” she encouraged. Easy for her to say, she was the pretty, popular friend. She probably has had her heart broken enough times that if someone dumps her, it won't even phase her.

“Over my dead body.” I replied.

11-20-11:

I attempted to overdose since the last time I have wrote in this. I took twenty pills but I guess that it wasn't enough. My parents have not mentioned what happened since they brought me home from the hospital. My brother sent me flowers as well as a get well card, but that is all. I guess no one really does care.

11-25-11:

(3:20 pm)

Today is Thanksgiving. I made myself throw up so I can stay in my room and not see my family. Not having to eat is a plus also.

(7:30 pm)

I weighed myself just now. 110. I wish I weighed eighty pounds.

11-26-11:

Bridget had been on vacation with her family in Italy when I had attempted suicide. Therefore she came to visit me today.

Bridget: Why the hell did you do it?

Me: Don't ask me dumb questions.

Bridget: I don't want to live without you.

Me: Well, you could, and you can't deny it.

Bridget: I wouldn't like it.

Me: People don't like a lot of things.

11-27-11:

I was walking to the library when I saw Lucas. I tried to avoid him, but he came over to me anyway.

Lucas: So, I heard what you did.

Me: How lovely for you.

Lucas: You're worth more than that.

Me: Ha. You would know.

Lucas: You're beautiful.

Me: Bullshit.

Lucas: I'm serious.

Me: Even so, beauty isn't everything.

Lucas: You're interesting.

Me: I'm morbid.

Lucas: Interesting.

Me: Look, I would weird you out and you would not want to talk to me if you knew about me.

Lucas: Try me.

Well journal, now is the moment I must say in a way I have been cheating on you. I have also been keeping a second journal. That one, I let him read.

Me: Come with me

I led him to my house and gave it to him.

Me: Give it back as soon as you're done. Or as soon as you get too freaked out.

Lucas: I won't be.

He took the journal and walked off.

JOURNAL #2:

10-11-11:

Today I've started writing journals. Journal #1 is about what happens in a day of my life. If I were to die though, this would probably be the more interesting one to read. I am not going to date it anymore. Just categorize it. Have fun, visit my grave when you are done.

Colors:

My favorite color is black. It's like night time which is my favorite time of day. Red is my second favorite color. It looks like blood. Blood is what happens when I cut myself. It is also the color of my best friend's hair.

Food:

Before I became anorexic my favorite food was turkey. That is why my least favorite holiday is Thanksgiving now. I also adored pumpkin pie.

Family:

I remember when I was six my brother and I would hang out all the time even though he is three years older then I am. My parents hadn't gotten their inner city jobs yet. In inner city Chicago. I live in the suburbs. They had still cared about their children.

Friends:

In middle school and the very beginning of high school I guess you could say I was popular. I met Bridget in my 6th grade class. She was the only friend I had who didn't turn out to be a backstabber. After that I became antisocial. Sometimes I think that people only liked me because my name was “enchanting” to them. Yes, they used the word “enchanting.” Arabella Rose. I don't see the big deal.

I hate my life:

When I first told myself not to eat anymore, I weighed 140 which was normal for my height. I wasn't even overweight. But I want to be eighty pounds.

Dear Ex's:

I hate all of you. Rot in hell.

My funeral:

I have it all planned out. I will have my long chocolate brown hair tied back in a blood red bow. I will be wearing what used to be my favorite dress. It is a pale white color and has a jet black bow that ties around my waist. I will weigh eighty pounds and be beautiful. The bottom of the twirly dress will rest on my mid thighs nicely. No one will be able to see the pain I had finally ended.

Everyone will have to wear black as they usually would at a funeral. They will also have to be wearing something visibly dark red as well, or they will not be let in. Bridget has an exception. Her hair will count for her. Men could wear dark red ties with their suits.

My casket will be wooden and painted jet black with beautiful carvings on the sides and top. The inside will be red velvet. I want a nice small black pillow to lay my head on. Just because I will be dead does not mean I don't have the right to be comfortable.

Random Thoughts:

• I like to blog. Mostly about death. Oh, and eating disorders.

• Ghosts are real.

• I want to burn my school down. Actually, I am never there so there is no point. Never mind.

• I have dreams where I am getting married but me and everyone around me is a skeleton. Then my bones disconnect and I'm just a pile of bones.

• “RIP Arabella Rose. An ugly girl nobody loved.”

• There is so much I think that I cannot even say in this journal.

JOURNAL #1:

11-30-11:

I still haven't seen Lucas. It does not take this long to read that journal.

12-1-11:

(3:30 PM)

I went to school. I thought maybe I would see him. I didn't.

(6:30 pm)

Lucas kissed me.

12-9-11:

You are probably wondering what happened. I didn't write it because I was angry and shocked. But here it is.

I stepped out to smoke a joint. Lucas walks up.

Lucas: Hey.

KISS

I pushed him away.

Me: What the f**k are you doing?

Lucas: You're not weird, you're wonderful, I want to help you.

Me: Well I don't care.

I grabbed my journal out of his hand, went into my house and slammed the door in his face then locked it. I decided I would finish the joint in my room with the window open.

I haven't seen him since.

12-16-11:

I told Bridget to tell him to leave me alone. I was dead serious. She sighed.

“I guess you're just too far gone to be helped.”

I guess so.

12-25-11:

Christmas used to be my second favorite holiday.

1-1-12:

I remember I used to party on New Years Eve. This year I stayed home but Bridget came over. We smoked weed.

1-10-12:

I haven't left my room since New Years except to shower, go to the bathroom and get a tiny bite of food. My parents don't even care.

1-15-12:

I give up.

1-16-12:

(4:00 pm)

Rope. Check.

(10:00 pm)

I am going to kill myself tonight. I am going to succeed.

Goodbye Journal.

Goodbye world.

Goodbye Bridget.

Like you said, I am just too far gone.

Arabella tied a noose and hung herself in her closet. When rushed to the hospital it had been too late. Bridget, was devastated. Lucas, was shocked. Jason, Arabellas older brother, didn't show up at the funeral. Her parents claimed to everyone they had seen no signs of depression.

Her funeral was as she had wished. People read the journals after she was pronounced dead.

Her gravestone had read:

“RIP Arabella Rose Feld

A beautiful girl,

everyone loved,

even if the love was masked.”  

Author's Note

I hope you enjoy it. c: