Page 59 of The Summer Request
Michelle’s hips were stiff from sitting on the ground, so she too stood and stretched. She carefully picked up Justine’s urn and found a quiet overlook.
“We tried, Justine,” she said softly, removing the lid. “It seems like we can’t make it work without you.” The wind whipped the ash from her fingers before she had a chance to release it. Michelle imagined it being carried hundreds, thousands, of miles away.
For the first time since Justine’s passing, Michelle couldn’t hold back. Sobs bubbled from deep in her chest and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Justine was gone, as were the friendships she’d cherished so dearly.
It was over.
Michelle didn’t know what else to do, so she spent the rest of the day hiking. She managed to ignore her thoughts by taking on increasingly challenging trails.
It worked for a while, but when she got back to the house that evening, the memory of the past two weeks was there, waiting for her.
After a shower, she decided against going into town. There was enough food in the house to make dinner, or so she thought before she spilled half a package of flavored rice onto the kitchen floor.
She let out a sigh. “Great.”
There was a vacuum in the hallway closet, and to Michelle’s delight, it still worked.
Yet only a few seconds after it sprung to life, it died, along with all of the other lights and appliances in the kitchen.
“Of course,” she muttered. She wasn’t able to reset the socket, so she had to venture down the dark, rickety basement steps to find the fusebox.
Mercifully, all of the switches were labeled clearly, and when she flipped the kitchen switch, the refrigerator hummed back to life and the microwave beeped victoriously.
Michelle slammed the fusebox shut and turned to leave. Next to the stairs, however, something caught her eye. Tucked among the boxes of Emerald junk – sweatshirts, pamphlets, and guidance books – there was a little black book with a bright blue pen sticking out from the pages.
“Oh my gosh.” She grabbed the book, turning it in her hands and opening to the first page. It was another one of Justine’s diaries.
She hurriedly flipped to the back to find Justine hadn’t filled this one out in its entirety. There were only thirty pages or so that had been written on.
The last entry was written the day before her death.
Michelle got down on her knees, digging through the remainder of the boxes, looking for any other diaries. Once she was satisfied there were no more, she grabbed the black book and ran upstairs to the safety of the couch.
She read the last entry first, her eyes flying over the words so quickly that she had to double back to understand the meaning.
Oh diary,
I take back what I said before. My life isn’t over. I feel GREAT. My guru was right. I just needed to release all of those toxins from my body before I could start healing.
Healing is what I’ve needed. I’ve been so alone. I’ve turned into a failure, and Lou always said people don’t like being around failures. That’s the real reason why no one from Emerald will return my calls. He said they’re embarrassed for me.
It hurt. It did. But it was a wakeup call. My guru said I’ve ended up where I am because I always listen to other people over listening to myself. He said everyone – my mom, my friends, Lou, the rest of the inconsiderate world – needs to be shut out so I can hear my own inner voice.
I’m listening now! I’ve been on a fruit juice only cleanse for a little over a week. It was hard at first, and the number of supplements he has me on is a little overwhelming, but now I feel AMAZING!
Michelle’s heart sank. Who was this guru, and why had he forced Justine to limit her diet to juice for a week?
A knock rang out at the front door. Michelle leapt up. Maybe Lisa or Val had come back? It was perfect timing. She needed to show the diary to them. They needed to figure out who this guy was, and why Justine was listening to him, and –
Another knock on the door turned into pounding.
What was so urgent? Michelle stood, straightening her shirt before peering through the peephole.
The pounding stopped for a moment. Michelle leaned forward. She squinted into the darkness. There was no one out there.
Had she imagined it? Was she losing her mind? She needed to turn the light on so she could see, but she didn’t know which switch to hit.
