Julie was very convincing. She had of course done it herself.
Six months on and she was still hounding me.
‘Why are you doing this to yourself? Get on with it or I will not help anymore.’
No more procrastination. I knew I would do it.
I knew where she kept her diary so I retrieved it without a hitch.
I turned the page to the last entry.
‘The guilt of the survivor is so horrible’ she wrote
‘It goes to the core of your being.
You travel through pain and desolation with leaden feet, disbelief and loss your constant companion.You have seen your past disolve in a moment therefore no future beckons. Cherished things that made you who you are no longer exist you are a non entity.’
Julie’s mother entered the room and I gave her the diary.
Julie’s mum said. ‘You need to feel the guilt of the survivor then set to rest the victim.’
I have learnt life is like that. A snatch of unreality , then ‘bang’, you are back in the real world with friends. I will go now and put some roses on Julies grave she would like that.