The entries were a mix of everyday musings and deeper reflections. She wrote about school, her friends, and her teenage crushes. But as I read on, a different picture began to emerge. There were hints of struggles I hadn’t fully recognized — feelings of loneliness, pressure to succeed, and a sense of not fitting in. Her words were raw and honest, filled with emotion.

One entry caught my attention more than the others. It was written just a few weeks before her death.