Journal NOT a Diary!!!
Max's Journal
March 13, 2010
You will never believe what's in Cindy's notebook. How does she know this stuff? I ran into Fang's room and burst in the door, forgetting the embarrassing pictures for a moment. Fang was laying on his bed, listening to his black Ipod, probably My Chemical Romance. He ripped the ear-buds out of his ears and looked up.
"Look at this!" I yelled, running over to him. I threw the notebook at him, full-force.
I heard the air come out of his lungs with a whoosh! as it smacked him in the stomach. "What is it?"
"Cindy Wynn's notebook."
He shot me a look as he picked it up and flipped up the cover. He frowned as he flipped through the pages. "No way, how did she get this?" He shook his head. "Exact words and everything!" He shook his head.
Okay, I don't know how she knows this, but in that one little notebook was every conversation I'd had with anyone, especially Fang, since the first Macy's attack. How did she KNOW this stuff? She had to have a spy. But who would be so sleazy and disgusting and hate me so much to do this? Then it hit me, like a lightning bolt. Bella. I remembered the call she gave Cindy. All lies, all to make me look bad.
I told Fang my suspicions.
He shook his head again. "No. No one was here during this talk. Just you and me. But that doesn't mean she doesn't have a spy.
No matter how much I hated to admit it, Fang was right. That means....she had to have a recording device. A microphone or camera. Probably one in every room. I focused above Fang's head. A little black dot...
I moved Fang's leg and stepped on his bed. I felt the little black thing, defiantly a camera. Pinching it, I pulled, and it came loose with a loud pop! that made me cringe. I pulled again and it ripped out, leaving a tiny hole in his wall. "Oops. Found a camera."
Fang held out his hand and I gave him the camera. I scanned the top of the wall, no other cameras. "We have to get rid of it," Fang said, turning the camera in his palms. "Crush it."
Sighing, I slammed my fist into his palm, crushing the camera. It shocked both of us, and I jerked my hand away. "Ouch! Maybe we should crush the other ones with some hammer somewhere..."
"What was your first clue?" he asked sarcastically, the cracked camera on his carpet.
I glared at him but left the room. You'll be amazed at all the cameras we found. A whole empty ice cream bucket full. Why so many, I don't know. We walked out to Mom's old gardening shed and prepared to crush them. Fang gripped a hammer in his hands.
"Wait!" I yelled.
He stopped about a centimeter away from the camera. "What?"
I took the camera from him. "If Cindy had these cameras getting everything, then why would she need that scrawny notebook? I mean, wouldn't she rather show a video of what happens other then read it?"
"Maybe these are for someone else, and Cindy's just copying them," Fang suggested, exchanging glances with me. But who would the cameras be for? There are countless people who would love the latest dirt on the Flock. Plenty of suspects. We silently agreed, wait and talk about this later. And neither one of us decided to fight about it.
We crushed the rest of the cameras and walked back silently to the house.
Okay, maybe I should go talk to Fang instead of writing in this journal. I'll try to write sooner.
--Maximum