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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/637531
Rated: 18+ · Book · Horror/Scary · #1531766
His hand steadied and began its descent. I squeezed my eyes shut-It’s now or never.
#637531 added February 24, 2009 at 9:10pm
Restrictions: None
March 4, 2007
I accidentally swept you into my backpack this morning. I was in such a rush. Last night, I fell asleep doing my homework. I woke up this morning with my math book under my head like a pillow and a sheet of unfinished problems resting beneath my right hand. It was bad. I took one look at the clock and realized—my bus was coming in seven minutes! I closed my math book, picked up all the notebook (and journal) looking things lying on my desk, and threw everything into my L.L. Bean backpack. Awesome, right? I found you when I was at my locker, cramming books in and taking more books out. You were sandwiched between my Health book and my Spanish 1 book. Sorry…I hope you didn’t mind…My Health book smells kinda funny…

I’m in second period now. I just finished my Spanish test. Super e-z. I was made for Spanish. I TOTALLY BEASTED IT! WOO! :D

I just giggled out loud and my teacher gave me a funny look. His name is SeƱor Hilliard. He is freeeesh out of college. He’s absolutely crazy. You’d like him if you were a person…

I’m so tired. I shouldn’t have written so late last night. Ah, well…whatever. I don’t care. I mean, what does matter? Clearly, school isn’t as important as I thought—otherwise, Indy and I wouldn’t have skipped class yesterday. Sh! That’s a secret!

Speaking of which…Amber totally told Josh that I have a thing for him! WTF?! What a great best friend she is…Oh, well, fingers crossed, maybe this will turn out okay…I really Josh. Did I tell you that on Monday he walked with me to EVERY class? I think he likes me…I could be wrong. Guys can be kinda stupid sometimes. I think that we might actually have

Sorry about that. Bell rang. I think that we might actually have a chance. I mean, we talk all the time practically. And he’s in my health class—fun! <sigh> I want this to happen. Please, oh, please, Josh ask me out!

----

So, I’ve been thinking of ways to get away from Aunt Linda and Uncle Stewart. I may an idea…What if I overreact to something, blame it on them, say I’m running away to Indy because he is much more understanding and I’m welcome there—okay, maybe not that last part because I am always welcome here. But it could work. And Indy is legally able to take care of me, be my legal guardian, you know? Hmm…I’ll have to think about it some more. It could work.

----

I am in fifth period now. I came from lunch. Indy kept looking at me across the commons. It was awkward. I told my friends that he’s my brother and they were like WEEEIIIIIRRDDDDDDD! I told them that my mom was actually dead and my dad was actually in jail. Amber thought that that was cool until I told them my dad got arrested for sexually abusing me. They immediately told me how sorry they were. Blah. Whatever. I don’t even remember it, so…so. Lunch was stupid, basically. <sigh> be glad you’re not human. It can really suck.

I hate people.

----

Okay, get this, I’ve been reading more of my journal from when I was three. This was an earlier entry. It’s pretty crazy. Check it out:

October 26, 1995
9:13 am

         I slammed the door behind me.
         “Bad day?” My mother asked me.
         I nodded and went over to see what she was looking at. My eyebrows just about flew off my forehead. My mother, who hated anything to do with court-related issues, was poring over legal papers. I peered over the edge of the counter, shocked, and read the tiny, boring black characters that make up the English alphabet. My mother had filed for divorce- whatever that meant. It didn’t sound good. My mother scooped up the papers and placed them in a folder.          She gently picked me up, placed me on the counter, and got a jug of milk out of the refrigerator.
         My mother placed the jug on the counter beside me and retrieved two glasses from the cupboard. I watched in silent fascination. My mother saw me watching and smiled. She poured two healthy portions of the dairy product and handed me the smaller of the two glasses. I drank greedily while my mother sipped hers, mostly watching her daughter. Finally, after I had drained my milk, I cautiously asked, “Mom, what’s a divorce?”
         My mom smiled at me and in reply asked, “Indy taught you to read?”
         I shyly smiled. My mom pushed my bangs out of my eyes, eyes so much like hers. My mom heaved a heavy sigh.
         “A divorce,” she started, “is kinda like breaking up a pact. A marriage, for example, is a pact. I wanna break up your father’s and my marriage.”
         My big, round, innocent eyes looked horrified, “Why? I love Daddy.”
         “It’s complicated.” My mother said. Her sad look told me she was done discussing this break up.
         I placed a hand on my mother’s shoulder in comfort. She smiled at me and slid me off the counter and back onto the hardwood floor. “Go play, kid.”
         I smiled and skipped up the stairs to my room. Mommy can take care of herself, I thought. I wandered into my brother’s room. Indy was busily writing something in a green book. I tried to peek, but he shoved the book closed and onto the highest shelf. I frowned. Indy turned solemn eyes on me.
         “Wanna play?” My six year-old brother asked me. I nodded and giggled in pleasure. I clapped my hands together and asked what we were going to play.
         “Spies.” Indy smiled secretively. I would keep a watch out for mommy or daddy and Indy would get the folder with the legal papers about divorce.
***

         After dinner, I was sitting on my brother’s floor, watching him write more in his book and copy important notes from the folder. My curiosity was growing by the minute. I played with my freshly washed hair and strained to nonchalantly read upside-down.
         “Indy?” I asked, fully aware of how much my brother hated to be interrupted. My brother nodded but silently continued writing. “What are you writing?” I asked him.
         Indy looked up at me and said, “Maybe one day I’ll tell you. You’re too young to understand. Even if you did, it would scare you to death.” My brother’s eyes bore into me, scrutinizing every inch of my face, noting every feature. I was fascinated, watching him distinguish every detail. His memory was so sharp and bright. Perhaps that was why we were doing all of this fun grown-up playing.
         Suddenly my mother walked up the two stairs into Indy’s room and called, “Indiana and Micky Brant! What are you two doing just sitting around?”
         Indy slid the folder under his bed and began stripping for his bath. I giggled as my father came by and stopped, eyebrows raised. His comical look told me of his confusion. My mother’s smile disappeared. She scooped me off the floor and took me to my room and tucked me in bed. I complained about going to bed, but my mother shushed me and turned my Winnie-the-Pooh nightlight on. After turning off the big light, she kissed my forehead, and I heard her wandering downstairs not bothering to check on her son.



I didn’t remember that Mom was going to divorce Dad…? Note to self: Ask Indy about it.

The next entry is almost several months later. It’s…fascinating. I think I’m beginning to understand all my memories a little more now…

February 8, 1996
9:41 pm

         After several weeks of playing “spies,” Indy wanted to play a different game. I eagerly followed him into the realm of teachers, detectives, and even police but the game that stuck was “Scientists.”
         Indy swiftly poured over another folder of information. As usual its contents were kept unknown to me. Indy turned back to the Petri dish that held bacterial colonies. When I asked Indy what kind, he wouldn’t answer me.
         “Micky, grab me a handful of beads.” I almost asked why but guessed what the answer was going to be- there wasn’t going to be one—and retrieved a handful of beads. I passed them off to Indy. Indy momentarily set them down in order to place the new agar and Petri dish on the lower counter. I nervously looked over my shoulder. Sure Mommy would let us work in her lab in the basement, but she probably wouldn’t want us doing what we were doing. Scheming. In a way that no kids had done. It was all Indy’s idea. We didn’t want our parents to divorce. We were coming up with a way to stop them. Although I wasn’t quite sure what the bacteria had to do with it. I looked over my calculations again but still felt like something was off. But not in the math.
         Something was up with Indy. He was always sulking and acting protective around my father. Which was strange since we were planning to convince him to not go through with the divorce. Of course, that didn’t make much sense since my mother had filed the divorce. But Indy was keeping most of the information to himself. He had a plan alright.
         Indy sensed my drifting focus and looked at the clock. It was almost 10:00. Our parents weren’t going to let us stay up too much longer. I yawned, and Indy sighed.
         “Alright Micky, you win.” My brother said, exasperated. “We’ll call it quits for the day.”
         “Why can’t we call it quits for all the days, Indy?”
         Indy laughed and slung an arm around my shoulder. “You really want to know what we’re gonna do? You REALLY wanna know?”
         I nodded, and Indy leaned over and whispered, “We’re gonna kill Dad.”
         My hand flew to my mouth in shock. Indy nodded, “He’s the source of the problem. Therefore, we get rid of him.” It made sense to me, but it didn’t seem…humane to kill your own father. The very thought made me doubt my brother and feel guilty. Suddenly Indy had a strange look in his eye and spoke sweetly in my ear, “Just think about it. We’ll be the first kids under the age of seven to develop our own strain of the meningococcal disease.”
         “Huh?” I asked in confusion.
         “Meningococcal disease is a very deadly illness that kills you anywhere between a whole day- or even more! It’s very efficient and causes a fever, a headache, a cramped neck, and possibly a sore throat. Because the symptoms are common illnesses, people don’t always catch the meningitis in time to save the victim.” I watched my brothers lips curl in sheer delight. I shuddered and thought about my dad lying in bed, slowly dying from our bacteria.
         “I don’t’ want to.” I complained.
         Indy blankly looked up at me. “You will because I say you will.” He gave me a devilish smile, and I thought about the green book. I thought about all of the stuff written in it. I wanted it too badly to quit. I nodded my submission. “Good.” My brother turned off the light and headed upstairs. I obediently followed.
         When we reached the downstairs level, my brother and I stopped talking. We smiled at our parents and pretended to wander through the kitchen. I was really eyeing the desserts. I paused and licked my lips longingly. But Indy kept going, so I followed suit, disappointed. I followed him right into his room where he promptly sat down and began writing in his green book. I stood in the doorway, not quite sure what to do. Indy looked up at me and smiled.
         “Guess what?” he asked me, grinning ear to ear with a new smile. A smile I had never seen before. It was creepy and defining, just like the air surrounding him.
         “What?” I responded, intrigued why he would incorporate me into his routine yet unnerved by this new smile.
         “In three weeks, it’s our birthday.” Indy went back to his writing. A moment of silence pushed back into thinking about my brother. What is he up to, now? I asked myself. He’d been at the games for months- almost a year. I already knew when our birthday was. He didn’t have to remind me. But Indy never said anything unless it was of some value to his thoughts.
         “And?” I prompted him.
         Indy grinned his new grin again but this time his shiny eyes reflected it. My attention focused on his eyes this time. They were creamy, without the sharp definitiveness that he carried. They were seldom without light, an inner fire. Their depth not finite but not quite infinite. Their edge a constant brown that was sometimes muddy, sometimes clear. The middle surrounding the iris was slipping between the swampy green that they normally were and a fearless gray, pausing only to hit the same color blue that my eyes were. I was seeing a new Indy, an Indy unknown to the rest of the world. He seemed void of all kindness and warmth. Yet he still had a drive. Indy was still there, just a different one was in charge. This one, this new Indy, scared me. He was ruthless in his actions. What did he have in mind for our future now? Where was his heart?
         “And that’s when we are gonna do it. That’s the day when our plans will launch into action.” Indy paused in his writing and chewed the eraser of his pencil. A thought passed through his mind, and Indy jumped and began to write furiously.
         Apparently his heart was down the drain, I thought. I suddenly realized there was no hope of getting rid of this new monster. He was here to stay. Heartless. I wandered out of his room depressed and felt like I couldn’t give up on him quite yet. There had to be something that I could do. I looked back over my shoulder. An item sparked a plan. I was gonna get Indy’s green notebook.



A monster? Indy? Heartless? Who is this Indy I described? Who is this old Indy?

Who is the new Indy?

And I never succeeded in getting his notebook…

What happened? Why did I go along with him after I changed my mind?

Meningitis…I remember making that—Oh! That’s what all the math is for!…What happened to the strain we developed?

I have ten million bagazillion questions and NOTHING has any answers. Ugh! I just wish someone could help me understand! I’m so confused!

My brain hurts.

I’m gonna go check email. Maybe if I let my brain soak up all this junk, then it’ll be more productive. Ciao.

----

So it’s now eleven thirty. I just had a five hour phone conversation with (guess who!) JOSH! We ate an early dinner tonight. The phone rang right as I was finishing up. I took the call in my room. Anyway, we talked and talked and talked and talked and OH MAN DOES MY EAR HURT! But…

I AM NO LONGER SINGLE! JOSH ASKED ME OUT!!!!!!!

And, of course, I said yes. Yeah! Happiness!

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My hand hurts now…

Wow. What a day this has been…I mean…all this adventure! It’s exciting! Tomorrow will be interesting…Shit. Tomorrow. I didn’t finish my homework.

DAMNIT!

I’ll write tomorrow! Love ya! Sleep well!

AAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!!
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