Summary: "God, this is Ricky Underwood. I know that You probably hear this a lot, but, I need You... I need someone who can help me. Please, just give me a miracle, an angel, a saving grace. That's all I need..." Ricky's whisper died as his tears fell swiftly out of his eyes.
This is a Ricky x Grace story that takes place when they're a lot younger, probably about the beginning of 6th grade. It's hugely AU and there's only minor mentions of other characters. Ricky has a secret, and when Grace finds out all she wants to do is help him. This is the relationship of Ricky and Grace as it grows from a simple, saving friendship, to a lasting love forever.
Introduction
Dear Journal, Dear Diary
Dear Journal,
I hate this. I hate my school, my new teachers, the kids, my life, everything. I especially hate my father, if that's something I can call him. I honestly don't think that father is the right word for him, but I have no clue what else to call him. I was reading through my older journal entries, trying to find one good day to live on, one good memory to keep in my mind forever. I found nothing, surprise, surprise. Every entry is after another of my father's "lessons," so what good is there to say? It's all the same, and I have no one to help me. People pray to God when they need help, and they say He's always there. I've tried it, and so far He hasn't been so helpful for me. I wonder if He cares. I mean, there's so many kids out there, why would anyone care about me? If my parents don't care, who else is there?
Today marked the end of the first week of 6th grade. Let me tell you, it's no picnic. Now I have six teachers, a locker number and combination to remember, and tons more homework. Not that I'm going to do any of that homework. What's the point? I'll probably just fail, and bringing home a bad grade to my father is like... well, he just isn't happy about it. At all. He expects me, no, demands, me to get straight A's. He says that if one day that happens, it'll be something that could change the lessons. I've tried so hard before to get straight A's, but it's so hard. I need help, but my parents are no help with homework or studying. I guess I'll just have to figure this out on my own. That's how it's always been, right?
Oh, we got a new student today. She's in ALL of my classes, and I mean ALL of them. No other kid is in that many of them. I dont really know about her, I guess she seems like she could be nice. Her name was something, well, kind of religious in my opinion. It reminds me of everything I don't have. What was it? Hope... Angel... Grace. Grace, that was it. I guess she's pretty, but she's just too sweet I think. I mean, she's always saying "please" and "thank you" and being all polite. It's clear that she's lived a perfect, cusioned life. I don't like her.
That's all I have to say. Bye, for now I guess. I'll talk to you again tomorrow around 6:00, right after yet another lesson.
-Ricky
Ricky slammed the composition notebook shut. On the cover, written in blue crayon, was the word JOURNAL in very sloppy, childish handwriting. He'd gotten the journal when he was in second grade. Originally it had been an assignment from his teacher, basically he had to write about school and assigments. Yet after that project was over, Ricky had wanted to keep writing. He kept the journal and started to write about life, and it wasn't long before the entries became dark. In fifth grade he'd had to add sheets of paper to the back of the notebook so he could keep writing, and now it was a huge, sloppy mess.
The young boy sighed sadly. It was already dark outside; stars were dotting the black night sky. His brown eyes stared outside wistfully. Oh, how he wanted to run away, to get away from this nightmare. Yet where could he go? Nowhere, that was it. He had no friends, no relatives who could help him. He was alone in this nightmare.
For the first time in a very long time, Ricky had the urge to pray. He kneeled beside his bed, just as he had all those years ago, folded his hands and closed his eyes. His voice came out in a whisper, just to be certain that his dad would not wake up.
"God, this is Ricky Underwood. I know that You probably hear this a lot, but, I need You... I need someone who can help me. Please, just give me a miracle, an angel, a saving grace. That's all I need..." Ricky's whisper died as his tears fell swiftly out of his eyes.
-0-0-0-
Dear Diary,
Wow, today was amazing! Middle school is great. I mean, sure, other kids have gotten a head start since I just moved here, but I still think it's great. Most of my teachers were nice to me, except for Mr. Johnson, our math teacher. He's not mean, I guess he's just strict. My other teachers are really nice, though. The kids are great, too. They were all so welcoming to me, they even all said hello at the same time! It was great, and I was laughing the whole time. There's this one boy who didn't seem very happy at all, though.
His name is Ricky, I believe. He's in all of my classes, even my electives. It's pretty cool. I bet we'll become really close friends after awhile. He didn't seem very social. He sat in the far corner and kept his head buried in this book. I don't see why he'd be so sad. Middle School is great, I feel like I have so much more freedom! Well, I don't have much more to say. I'll be writing again tomorrow! Goodbye for now.
~ Grace
Grace Bowman flipped her pink, soft-covered journal closed and placed it back in her drawer. She smiled softly to herself, turning off her desk lamp as she looked at her digital clock. The numbers read 9:00, causing the young girl's eyes to widen. How could it be that late already? Her father and mother would be upstairs any moment to tuck her into bed. Quickly Grace jumped off her chair to kneel beside her bed, preparing to say her prayers.
Her thoughts strayed to that boy again, Ricky. Grace frowned at the thought of him. She wanted to know why he was so sad all the time. He seemed like he could be a nice guy, maybe he could become a good friend of hers. Grace sighed and looked down, gazing at her bed sheets and thinking about that little boy buried in his book.
Tomorrow, I'm gonna talk to him, Grace decided. I don't know what it is. There's just something about him...
Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Grace bowed her head, ready now to say her prayers.
How was it? I don't like how I wrote Grace's chapter, mainly because I got so into Ricky's depressed mood that it was hard for me to write again in a cheerful, happy mood. Anyways, please review with feedback!
