(1) Journal
The conversation had been floating in my mind all day today at school.
"Trouble would be better than this… this moping around all the time!"
"I am not moping around."
"Wrong word." Charlie said. "Moping would be better-that would be doing something. You're just… lifeless, Bella. I think that's the word I want."
Lifeless?
"I'm sorry, Dad." The statement was so lame. I cringed when I think of the words I chose.
"I don't want you to apologize." Charlie said.
Then what do you want? How can I make you happy?
"Honey, you're not the first person to go through this kind of thing, you know."
Please, Dad! I don't want to talk about this anymore!
"I know that." I grimaced.
"Listen honey. I think that- that maybe you need some help." Charlie's face turned tortured.
_______________
Help. Help. Help. I turned the word in my head all morning. How could I ask for help? Even I didn't believe in the things I had seen.
I put my pen in my mouth and chewed the cap. School ended. The days passed in a blur. I was grateful when I was occupied with homework. My mind was occupied. I didn't have to think about him. I heard the last bell ring. I am alone.
I walked down the hallway and saw Jessica talking to Mike. Mike waved and I automatically gave him a short wave. I clutched my books to my chest. I looked down at the floor so I wouldn't make eye contact with anyone. The routine I had developed in the past few months. It worked for me.
I made it to the parking lot and I searched for my truck. Then the reminder entered. Charlie took the truck to get serviced. A nice walk home instead. Great! At least I could make it into a long walk. It would delay my afternoon. I am pathetic. I feel pathetic. I turned down the road and began my long way home. I passed a few stores but didn't have the energy to go inside. I window-shopped and paused in a used furniture store. I saw old dolls with black button eyes staring at me. I blinked and stumbled back.
I looked again at the dead eyes of the doll. I'll try across the street. I looked for on-coming cars and crossed the small road. I stopped in front of Mrs. Krandle's arts and crafts. I looked at her window display. She had charcoal pencils next to a draft board. I decided to go inside and take a peek at her selection of crafts. I passed a collection of drafting paper. I saw a small book section. I bent down and noticed a dark blue book lying beside the paper. I picked it up and ran my fingers over the cover. It was a velvety blue soft covering. I kept my fingers on the smooth surface.
I put the book on the shelf and walked around the store. Mrs. Krandle waved hi to me from her position on the counter. I half-heartedly waved at her and continued to look around. I made a circle and wound up at the blue book again. I picked it up and opened the front cover. I flipped through the empty pages. I was exceptionally drawn to this journal. I sighed and checked my wallet. I had ten dollars with me. I forgot my check- book at home, again.
I walked to the counter in a hurry. I clutched the blue journal in my hand. I put the journal in front of Mrs. Krandle.
"Hello, dear…how is everything?" Mrs. Krandle smiled at me pushing her glasses further up her nose.
"Good." I muttered. "I was wondering how much this journal is?" I asked and Mrs. Krandle picked up the journal. She turned it over and then put it face-up on the counter.
"Hmm, there's no sticker on it. I'd say I could sell it to you for five dollars." Mrs. Krandle smiled at me and punched some numbers in her register.
"Are you sure?" I looked doubtfully at her. "I think it's worth more than that!"
"Honey, I think it's an appropriate price for a journal. Is that okay with you?"
I stammered. "Yes… thank you." I reached into my wallet and pulled out the ten-dollar bill. Mrs. Krandle took the money and gave me change.
She put the journal in a brown bag with pink handles. "Here you go, Bella. Say hello to Charlie for me."
"Sure, I will. Thanks." I grabbed the bag and gave her a bigger smile as I left. I swung open the door of the shop and left.
….
I opened the refrigerator at Charlie's and took out leftovers. I warmed a plate of food in the microwave and brought my backpack to the table. I did my homework while my dinner cooked. The microwave beeped and the front door opened.
Charlie's home.
I grabbed another plate and filled it with food. I took the first plate out and set it on the table. I grabbed some silverware and glasses. Charlie walked into the kitchen and hung his jacket.
"Smells good. Is that our dinner from last night?" Charlie went to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of Pepsi.
"Yeah, I stopped by Mrs. Krandle's and she says hi." I reiterated the greeting. I grabbed the other plate of food and put it on top of my backpack.
"You went shopping." Charlie said confused and shoveled some food in his mouth.
"Yeah, since you have my car. I decided to go into town." I said quietly and chewed.
"Oh, that's right. Your truck is as good as new. It needed a new fuel pump." Charlie declared and drained his glass.
"Was it expensive?" I asked cautiously.
"Nah, Buck owes me a favor." Buck was the proprietor of the only transmission shop in Forks. He charged lots of money for simple jobs.
"That's good." I stated and got seconds for him.
"What'd you get?" Charlie wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"What?" I asked confused and put his plate in the microwave. I punched a couple of minutes into the microwave and turned to him.
"At Krandle's. What did you get?" Charlie looked at me as I sat down. "Some art supplies?"
"No, I found this journal. It was pretty cheap. I think Mrs. Krandle was being nice and giving me a deal." I took the bag out of my backpack and showed Charlie the blue journal.
"It's nice." Charlie said off-handedly. I put the food in front of him and we ate in silence.
….
I was sitting cross-legged on my bed staring at my purple binder. I drew little vortexes on the front cover. My computer beeped and I moved the mouse a little. The little mailbox was blinking on my Internet page. I clicked the icon and waited. Renee's email popped up. I pushed the exit box. I wasn't ready to talk to my Mom. Maybe soon.
I took out the brown bag with the delicate pink handles. I reached in and took out the soft journal. I touched the satiny cover and grabbed my pen that I chewed on earlier in class.
I opened the journal to the very back page. I wrote. This Belongs To: Bella Swan
I opened the very front page and chewed on my pen again. Did I really want to write my very innermost thoughts? What if someone found this? I was trying not to be overly-cautious. I chewed my pen cap.
He's gone! That's all I dared to write. I closed the journal and tossed it into my dresser drawer. I buried my face into my pillow and sobbed.
