CHAPTER ONE : ELICIA

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Journal entry 101

You showed up again today

The usual routine you climb up the stairs of the same unfinished building that is right across our house and you sit on the edge of the building.

I get to see you every day for an hour and half before you take off in your black jeep.

Most times you just sit and stare into space, thinking I guess.

Sometimes you come to dress your wounds, l wonder what causes them.

They are not just minor wounds, they look deep and you wince every time you dress them.

Who causes them, do you get into fights? Are you one of those boys that parents tell their daughters to stay away from?

This time it's not an arm wound, a head wound rather it's an abdominal wound. It looks deep and painful.

You close your eyes in pain as you let the alcohol sink in to wash off the cut, avoiding infections as well.

How come you are so good at dressing yourself, l know YouTube can teach one everything but the way you do it looks like someone who knows it very well.

Do you have anyone in your family who is a doctor?

Today you left as soon as you dressed your wound, with half an hour to spare.

Why are you in a rush today?

The question still remains,

Who are you, Rooftop?

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"l can see you write a lot about him, why is that?" Lydia asks, my therapist.

"l thought you wanted me to make journal entries, isn't it why you bought me this Journal?" l say and she smiles.

"l know you are smart Elicia, but you know what l mean. Talk to me." she says and adjusts her seat to look at me directly.

"l have no idea l just do." l say starting to be more honest and open.

If she is supposed to be helping me l should be willing to be helped and she nods waiting for me to say something else.

"I honestly have no idea. l look forward to seeing him every day." I add unsure of myself.

"l like that you are realizing your emotions and that you don't want to deal with them that shows that you are slowly coming to terms with reality. Although channelling your emotions into him or anyone for that matter is not ideal at least it's a start, so why haven't you talked to him." She asks with a soft voice.

l swear she freaks me out sometimes how does she manage to stay cool all the time with a job like hers.

"l am afraid if l do he will leave and l want him to stay. l haven't known his name yet or why he is like that, l want to know." l say and she nods her head.

"And why do you think he will leave?"

"Because every man in my life left. My dad, best friend and my boyfriend, they all left." l say and she smiles again that stupid smile she gives when l say something with emotions in it.

"See that, Elicia is what l want you to write about. l will admit he is a good influence on you. Rooftop." she says and adjusts her skirt.

"Instead of me writing about it why don't we talk about it."

"Progress." she shouts and we both smile.

For the next hour and half we spend it talking about my feelings, how everything is making me feel, how I am planning on dealing with it instead of repainting the walls without removing the previous paint.

My name is Elicia Rae the only child of Mr. and Mrs. Rae.

Only that it's just Mrs. Rae and me now, dad left for another woman and l was left with mom.

Not that I am complaining, l love my mother to the moon and back.

But him leaving left a void in me one that led to me experiencing anxiety attacks whenever I saw a daughter with her father.

My dad and l were very close, we had dad's and daughter day almost every week.

I would have sworn that l loved my dad more so when it happened l shut down.

We live in California with my mom, Vinz on Fairfax apartments and she is a surgeon at Cedars Sinai medical centre.

My male best friend, Jeremy, passed away as soon as we finished high school, we had been friends since forever.

We went to Fair Fax high school and we had both applied at UCLA.

We both wanted to follow our parent's footsteps so we were going to pursue medicine.

Him being a party animal made sure we went to every party during our four months before starting University and that is when it happened.

29 May.

I will never forget the day.

We were going to one of the parties he was invited to. A dog just appeared in the road from nowhere, Jeremy was driving at 180km/hr so he lost his control resulting in an accident that took his life and left me unscratched but mentally broken to my core.

All l could hear was him screaming for help until I heard no more.

That also took a toll on me and I had to see a psychiatrist and a therapist.

To top it off my boyfriend broke up with me. He said and l quote "You have a lot on your plate right now and I can't be around to carry the baggage with you."

I swear men can be jerks at times.

I was hurt but ever heard of the saying when it rains it pours? It sure did pour, all this happened within the space of 2 months, May and June.

That's when l decided to take a gap year and deal with my shit before university.

Lydia, my therapist had been doing a good job so far, l stopped having frequent nightmares.

I went see her every day ever since the accident.

It's had been the five months of me seeing Lydia and two months into the five months as I was standing near my window in my room at home, one that overlooked an abandoned house opposite to our house I saw a boy around my age sitting on the edge of the roof.

The first day I saw him he was holding what seemed like photo and a lighter, he burned the photo and started crying.

I was intrigued by the boy and felt strangely drawn to him. 

The first days after Jeremy's death I could not even speak or share anything with Lydia so she devised a journal entry policy.

She bought me a journal to write whatever I feel like writing, mostly about my feelings since I did not want to talk.

She read my entries every weekend and tried to converse with me.

After my encounter with Rooftop, the guy from the rooftop I saw him multiple more times, it was as if the roof was his thinking place,

I started finding myself again,

my voice and

I started writing about him in my journal.

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The first chapter....

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All my love

Mitchel