Stella's funeral was today. Her roomie Harry, Chester, and myself were the only attendees. Stella had no family and very few friends. I can't...I don't understand. They don't even know how she died. They say there were bullet wound, but no bullets. No record of anyone named "Stella MacKenzie" of her approximate age ever being born or existing AT ALL, ANYWHERE in New Zealand.
I don't...I don't even know anymore. There's something missing, I know there is, a missing puzzle piece that will make all of this make sense, but I get this horrible feeling that I can't know. I can't find out. Stella was like a sister to me, and I know there's more to this than it seems but I'll never know, because I get this feeling that if I find out I'll get myself into something that there's no way of getting out of.
I'm sorry. I can't post here anymore. It was okay when it was just me and Chester being goofy and rambling but I can't do that any more and neither can he.
There's a part of us missing that seems like more than just Stella. It seems big enough for two people, three people, four, like there are others who have gone and I just don't remember them.
I'm sorry. These are our last goodbyes. It was lovely knowing you all, and I wish you all luck in whatever you do. But it's the final curtain for us.
No matter what, I am glad to have known you all, even for such a short time.
Don't forget. I love you all.