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Prose

Written Secrets/Dear Diary

Dear Diary, (June 18 )
I got you when I was little, you were a present from my dad. That was five years ago when I was 5 and he was still alive. I never wanted to write in you because I used to think the idea was kind of stupid, but I didn’t tell that to daddy… it might have hurt his feelings. He told me to treat you as if you were a real person so that that way, when I wrote my secrets in you, it would feel as if I was really telling someone and I’d feel as if I got something heavy off my chest. I thought that as long as I had someone to talk to I wouldn’t need you, but now daddy is gone and mom comes home so late, too late for me to wait for her so we can talk. And Jason is just a boy, and he’s only six, he wouldn’t understand how I felt about things. He barley even remembers dad anyway, he wasn’t even two. Things have been kind of hard since daddy passed away, but it’ll get better. Anyway, since I’ll be filling you with my thoughts, I guess you should at least know my name, it’s Laurie.


Dear Diary, (June 20)
Mom has a boyfriend! Mom has been a lot happier. And she had her job changed so that now she works for him. It’s kind of weird though, she still comes home late … and sometimes not until early in the morning. But it doesn’t matter, as long as she’s happy I’m happy. I also forgot to tell you how daddy died; I guess you need to know that too; huh? Well daddy was a construction worker. They said there was some kind of freak accident and that the building they’d been working on collapsed on him. I was real little at the time so I didn’t know exactly what they meant, but I knew that he was never coming home. I didn’t know why though, daddy was really strong, and to me he could do anything! I couldn’t understand how something like a wall could kill him. I know better now though… but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss him.


Dear Diary, (June 23)
Mommy brought her boyfriend over to meet us finally. He’s kinda nice; though he’s nothing like daddy. He’s kind of thin, and he doesn’t have muscles like daddy did. He’s a supervisor for a company, so I guess that must mean he’s really smart, but dad was smart too. Anyway, took us out to dinner his name is Mark. He’s got really dark brown hair and green eyes that make him look mean sometimes, like he’s a shark waiting in the deepest part of the ocean so he can try to eat you! But he’s not mean like that at all, that’s what mom says anyway. She says it’s just a “natural feature,” she says it’s attractive to people, but I can’t figure out why. After dinner he took us to the toy store and let me and Jason pick out anything we wanted. I picked out a little stuffed bear and Jason got an ambulance truck to replace the one he lost at school a while ago. They really like each other I think because they wouldn’t stop staring at each other half the time. Jason’s so immature too; he kept making faces and saying it was gross. Mommy didn’t yell at him or anything though, her and Mark just laughed and started making kissy noises at each other, like they were trying to annoy him. Oh well, I think I'll start making clothes for my teddy bear.


Dear Diary, (July 2)
It’s been a while huh? Well we just got finished moving! Mark really wanted us to move in with him. It’s cool because his house is real big, and I don’t have to change schools or anything! Mom said she didn't want to intrude, but she gave in after a while. I have my own room too! I used to have to share with Jason, and he has the worst smelling socks in the world! But now I can have my stuffed animals out instead of in my closet, and I can listen to my radio without stupid toy sirens ruining the songs! Best thing is, I can invite my friends over and don’t have to worry about my little brother being allowed to come in. I’m really happy too, because mom says things will be getting a lot better from now on. Things were really hard after daddy died; and after the funeral, but mom’s happy again and we have a good place to live! Mom says Mark’s the best thing that’s happened to us since the accident.





Dear Diary, (July 5)
I don’t think I really like Mark anymore. He’s been giving me these weird looks sometimes when mom isn’t looking, it’s scary. I know mom said it was just a natural feature but I really think he’s mad at me or something. And sometimes when I’m sleeping, he’ll come into my room and sit on the edge of my bed and tell me how beautiful I look, “just like my mom,” he said one time. There was one time he kept touching my legs while he was talking to me, and when I moved his hands he just laughed at me and left. I don’t know why he’s like that, maybe it’s just another one of his “natural features."



Dear Diary, (July 7)
I’m really scared now. Mark came into my room again like he usually does, but this time he tried to lift up my shirt, and when I wouldn’t let him he hit me! When I started crying he covered my mouth and started saying he was sorry. He told me to be quiet or I’d wake up my mom, and that she needed her rest. When I was finally quiet he said he was sorry again and left… but I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m scared to sleep in my room now; I don’t want him to come in again. I told my mom and she got really quiet. She had this weird look on her face like someone punched her in the stomach. I told her I was scared to sleep in my room, but she told me to just stay in there tonight and that she would take care of it.


Dear Diary, (July 8 )
When we were eating dinner mom was quiet; like she was thinking really hard. Mark didn’t seem to notice really, he kept acting like he normally does when mom is around, he didn’t say anything bad to me or look at me funny like he does when she’s out of the room. But mom was different from how she usually is, she didn’t stare at Mark with that same sparkly kind of look she usually does; she didn’t even yell at Jason for playing with his toy trucks at the table! I didn’t see Mark at all that night, so I guess mom really did take care of it. I feel better now, but I still don’t like Mark... I wish daddy was still alive.


Dear Diary, (July 11)
I’m writing in you at my neighbor’s house. She lives in a big house all by herself. I guess I should tell you why I’m here… mom didn’t take care of the problem like she said. Mark came into my room again and when I tried to call for mom he slapped me across the face. I was so scared that I just sat there. He tried to kiss me and when I tried to push him off he pinned my arms down and I couldn’t move. I screamed for mom again, and when she came she told me… she said that I shouldn’t scream or I’d wake up Jason… she said it would all be over in a little while. She told me that she was sorry, and that she had to do it to give me and Jason all the things that we could ever want. She said she had to, she said that we deserved better, that she deserved better and that sometimes you had to sacrifice to get what you wanted. I didn’t scream, and I tried not to cry but I couldn’t help it. He hurt me a lot in places mom always told me I should never let anyone touch. He kept kissing me… I almost gagged when he put his tongue down my throat. I don’t know why they did that to me, I didn’t do anything bad, I really didn’t, I don’t know why I had to sacrifice anything; I didn’t even want to stay there anymore. All I want is daddy back; all I want is for it to be just us again like before. I kept trying to ask mom for help but she wouldn’t even look at me. I think she hates me... I told her how sorry I was for whatever I did but she just kept her head turned away from me. You're the only one I have to talk to, no one but you and this lady next door to me know what happened, but she didn’t make me feel better when I told her. She just made me feel a lot worse, she said that my mother was horrible for what she did, but she’s not. I love my mom and I know she’s not a bad person, Mark is the bad one. You can’t talk though… so you can’t make me feel bad when I tell you things, and even if you could I know you wouldn’t say those nasty things. You know I didn’t do anything wrong, you know my mommy isn't a bad person... right?


Dear Diary, (July 12)
The lady called the cops on my mom and Mark yesterday; I hate her! Mark told them that I just liked to make up stories, that I was just a little upset because I felt like HE was butting in OUR lives, that I didn't want him to replace my daddy. I hate him too! How could he say I was lying! Now they’re probably both mad at me and it’s all that lady’s fault! I’m right back in my room where he can get me. I don’t want him to hurt me anymore, and mom won’t protect me. She says I should have just been a good girl and behaved, but I don’t know what I did wrong! I wish daddy was here, he would have never let this happen. Jason’s mad at me too… he says it’s all my fault mommy’s sad. He said that mommy and Mark are fighting and they’re probably going to break up. I know it’s about me… they’re probably going to hurt me again like last time. I wish I knew how to fix what I did wrong; I wish they weren’t so mad at me.


Dear Diary, (July 13)
You’re my only friend. Mom gave me a bag of clothes this morning… she told me that it was for my own good. She said that I know better than to tell other people what goes on in the family, even though Mark isn’t even family! I told her over and over how sorry I was, but she walked away from me. She didn’t even give me a kiss goodbye like she used to! He drove me somewhere really far away, for a really long time. I’m glad I took you with me, or else I would have been all alone, and because I have you with me that; kind of means daddy is with me too. He’ll protect me out here, I’ll be fine. Besides, maybe they’ll come back to get me. Mom wouldn’t just leave me out here, would she? I have to stop writing now, it’s getting dark. I hope they come and get me soon... I'm scared.


Dear Diary, (July 15)
I’m really hungry. I don’t have any money for food and no one will help me. I found a park, but when I tried to talk to a little girl there her mother took her away and told me that I was filthy, and that I wasn't allowed near her daughter. I tried to stay clean, I really did, but there isn't anywhere to wash up! I want to go home... I’m glad I have you, but I miss my friends and my family. I’m really hungry too... but at least I found a pond at the park, the water smelled funny and tasted weird but at least I’m not thirsty any more. I found a bottle, it had a little bit of mud on it but I rinsed that off and filled it with water so that way I could have something to drink later. I'm not worried though, daddy's watching over me, he'll protect me.


Dear Diary, (July 17 I think…)
I don’t think I should have drank the water. It made me sick, and I threw it all up, some of it had blood. It burned my throat, I didn’t even have clean water to rinse my mouth out with. I had to go to the bathroom a lot too, I don’t even think there’s one thing left in my stomach and now I feel even more hungry, I’d even eat a whole can of beets right about now. I had to sleep in the bottom of a tree last night because it started raining, the rain water felt good on my throat. I found some berries in there to eat, they tasted weird but that’s probably because I tried eating grass with it. It didn’t matter anyway; I threw it all up again, even when I knew there was nothing left I couldn’t stop. Where’s my daddy? Why isn’t he watching me from heaven like mommy said he was?



Dear Diary,
I think this is the last time I’ll ever write in you. I don’t know the date for today and I can hardly move. My stomach hurts every time I try to stand up. I miss my mommy, I miss my friends, and I even miss Jason and all his annoying trucks. I just hope that if she ever finds this she knows how much I love her. I just hope she’s happy and I hope she’s not mad at me anymore... I'm not sad though, because I'll be with daddy soon. Then we can both be her guardian angels.


Where were you?
“Where were you on the night of the 16th?” asked Trent as he grabbed a police hat from off the chair and pulled it down on his head.
“Where were you?” Brant asked slyly. They both burst into laughter as they probed his mother’s office for her car keys. His mom was a late night security guard at a prison and wasn’t expected home until morning. Since she carpooled to work her car stayed in the garage, but with a seventeen year old son staying in the house while she was away, she knew well enough to hide her keys. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tear up the house looking for them.
“Hey, I think I found them!” Trent hissed as he dangled a key chain out in front of him. Brian rushed over and snatched the key from his hands.
“Cool, now let’s go. Six o’clock will be here before we know it, and I need time to score.” They both laughed as Brant snatched his mother’s hat from off the top of Trent’s head and threw it on the table. They raced down the steps and out the front door, wasting no time as they hopped into the white sedan and sped away.
“So where we headed?” Trent asked, his window rolled down and his elbow halfway out the car.
“I was thinking The Speed. There are a lot of girls in there, and at this time of night what else are they there for, to dance?” Brant scoffed as Trent snickered and stared out the window of the car. It was pretty quiet for twelve o’clock on a Saturday, but then again the town was a pretty small one.
As they got closer to the club they started to notice how quiet it was. Both stepped out of the car, a bewildered look pasted on their faces as they strode up to the neon highlighted doors. The glass doors allowed them a small view of the inside which looked to be empty as well, save about ten or twenty people, most of them couples or men seeking a date.
“Man this sucks,” Trent scowled as he began storming back towards the car. He slammed the door shut and rolled down the window. “Hurry up! Let’s find somewhere else to go.” Sighing Brent got into the car and started to drive around. After about ten minutes Trent began squirming in his seat. “Hey… pull over for a sec, I gotta take a leak.”
“Can’t you wait? The next club isn’t even that far off!”
“Come on man! I really gotta piss!” Brent cursed under his breath and pulled the car over.
Trent leaped out the car and headed towards a darkened alley as Brent opened his and climbed out. Slamming the door shut he glanced across the street at a girl all alone in a pink mini skirt, low cut white blouse and pink and white heels. He dubbed her easy game and shouted across the street to get her attention.
“It’s kind of dangerous to be walking out here alone! Why don’t you come back to my place where it’s safe?” He grinned as he leaned back against the driver’s side of the car and watched as the girl crossed her arms and began walking towards him.
“How do I know you’re not dangerous?” She asked smiling wickedly. He grinned back at her.
“Does this look like a dangerous face to you?” He turned to the side and held his hand under his chin. She giggled and shook her head.
“I guess not. How far do you live?”
“About fifteen twenty minutes. Don’t worry I’ll drop you off at home when you start to get tired.” She smiled up at him and headed over to the passenger’s side. Brent grinned triumphantly as he got into the car and started the engine. Just as he began driving away Trent came out of the alley zipping up his fly. He watched in complete shock as the white sedan drove past him.
“Hey! HEY! Brent!” He screamed as he ran down the street after the car.
“Hey… I think somebody’s trying to get your attention…” the girl commented as she stared into the rear view mirror at Trent. Haven given up on running he was jumping up and down, waving his arms.
“Probably just some drunk… you know how people get this time of night.” She nodded as he turned on the radio to drown out the slowly fading sounds of Trent’s voice frantically screaming for them to come back.
While they drove back to his house he asked her about herself, and answered her questions in return. He found out her name was Elsa and that she’d been out trying to forget about her boyfriend for a while. They’d gotten into a big argument and she didn’t want to think about it. He told her his name was Trevor and that he was getting ready to move in a few months so he was just enjoying his time here while he could. He didn’t know why he lied to her, he just kind of wanted to.
“Oh wow, really? I wish I could get out of this place. It’s so boring; you don’t know how lucky you are. So where are you going to be moving to?”
“Europe. My mom’s had a fascination with that place since she was little and now she’s finally getting a chance to go. I’d rather not go with her but I don’t have much choice right now.”
“Oh… hey, is this your house?” She asked as he started to slow the car down in front of his large blue home.
“Yup, for right now it is,” he said as he got out of the car. He raced over to her side as she unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. “Madam…” he said in a flimsy French accent as he opened her door. She giggled as she climbed out of the passenger’s seat. He opened the door and flicked on the small lamp resting on the stand by the couch. “Welcome to my humble abode.” He turned around and smiled at her, offering her a seat on the couch.
“Come sit, I won’t bite. Want anything to drink?”
“Um… I’ll take some water if that’s alright.” She murmured, gazing around the large living room as she slowly made her way towards the couch.
“Sure, I’ll be right back,” he headed into the kitchen and grabbed two glasses, filling one with coke for him and one with tap water for her, adding in a few pieces of ice. As he picked up the glasses he noticed a small brown bottle hidden behind the sugar bowl on the counter. He remembered his mother bringing it home, she’d confiscated it off some kid and told him (he couldn’t remember how many times) never to touch it. It was a date rape drug called GHB A.K.A “Georgia Home-Boy” or “Gamma-OH.” She meant to take it down to the station but it must’ve slipped her mind. He stared at it a long time before picking it up and pouring a little of it into the water. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong he thought to himself. I know I would’ve gotten her anyway, I just don’t feel like waiting. It’s not like she doesn’t want it, why else would she come along with me?
“You okay in there?” Elsa called out from the living room. The T.V had been turned on and videos were playing.
“Yup, it just took me a little while to break the ice.” Brent said as he entered the room. He handed her the glass of water and sat beside her on the couch. He pretended to watch the television as he drank his soda, but kept glancing over as she guzzled down the glass of water.
“Wow… I guess I was really thirsty.” She chuckled as she placed the glass down on the coffee table in front of them.
“Want anymore, like soda or something?” He asked a little nervously. He wondered how long the pill actually took to work.
“Um, sure, I guess I’ll have a little soda. I’m really thirsty, I was dancing and I don’t like to drink anything at clubs. Who knows what could be slipped in your drink, right?” She smiled at him but he didn’t smile back, instead he grabbed her glass and headed back into the kitchen. Sweating now he filled her glass with coke and poured more into her coke. He handed her the glass and sat back down on the couch.
“Hey, you okay? You haven’t said anything for a while.” She stared at him awkwardly as she drank half the soda.
“Yeah I’m alright. I’m just a little tired that’s all…”
“You know… I’m a little tired too…” She mumbled as she placed the soda down on the coffee table. “Do you um… mind… taking me home? God… Why am I so sleepy?” He nodded but he didn’t stand up. He silently watched as Elsa placed one hand on her head and rested back against the couch. After a little while her hand slipped away from her head and fell lazily onto the couch.
Brent swallowed hard and slowly inched his hand over, watching her face as he grabbed her hand. When she didn’t move he inched closer and pinched her nose for a second before letting go. His eyes grew wide and his hand trembled as he checked her pulse. Feeling a faint heart beat he breathed a heavy sigh and quickly began unbuttoning the top of her blouse. He jumped when he heard a loud rapping against the front ********…” he mumbled under his breath and quickly stood up. As he stood in front of the door he reached down and slowly opened the little drawer of the stand where the lamp rested. His fingers touched his mother’s spare gun and flinched, as if brushing against an eye of a stove. What the hell am I doing? He closed the drawer and opened the door a crack. There stood Trent, glaring at him and sweating.
“What the hell were you doing leaving me down there?! I had to run all the way here! You have any idea how far you live?!”
“Oh, sorry man… look this really isn’t a good time…”
“Oh yeah I saw that damn whore you drove away with when you left me back there! ******** you, let me in!” Trent pushed his way passed him and took three steps into the living room before stopping short. He stared wide-eyed at the unconscious girl lying on the couch, her blouse halfway open exposing her frilly blue bra.
“Oh… Oh God, Brent is she ali-” Trent turned around to stare cross-eyed down the barrel of a pistol. “Whoa what the hell are you doing?”
“Just… just sit down. I need to think, I don’t know what happened I just need to think.” Brent stared at the ground mumbling frantically to himself. Trent slowly moved towards the girl and felt for her pulse as Brent shakily aimed the pistol at him.
“Look… Brent… I don’t know what happened man but… she’s not breathing or anything we gotta call an ambulance or something!”
“No! I’ll go to jail if they find out what happened!” Brent gripped the pistol so tight his knuckles turned white.
“I’m sure if you just tell them it was an accide--”
“NO! You don’t understand I drugged her! If they find out I’ll go to jail! You can’t say anything!”
“Then what the hell are we supposed to do?!” Trent screamed back at him, afraid for his life and his friend. He didn’t want to go to jail, but he didn’t want to turn Brent in either.
Brent paced back and forth holding his chin and thinking hard. He looked up at Trent with a psychotic look in his eyes.
“I have an idea,” he said nodding in approval. “Stay right there, and don’t, do, anything! Or I swear to God I’ll shoot you and that girl!” Brent ran outside, leaving the door open for anyone who cared to peek inside. Trent glanced nervously at the phone, at the door, then back to the phone again. His hand lifted to reach for it as Brent breathlessly ran back into the living room, slamming the door behind him. He grinned nervously up at Trent, “I’ve got it.” Brent held up a shovel, staring at it as if he were staring at his savior, as if he were staring at Jesus himself.
“Jesus ******** Christ… you can’t be serious. We can’t do this! She might still be alive; maybe we can still get her some help! She might not press charges we can--”
“Are you ******** shitting me?!” Brent snapped back at him, slamming the shovel down so hard onto the floor that it bent. “What if she’s not alive? And if she is what if she does try to press charges? We have to do this! Or we’ll both go to jail, you’re in on this too now you’ll go to jail with me.” Brent was shaking as he held the pistol up, pointed in the direction of Trent’s heart. “Now I want you to go into the kitchen, and get two trash bags, you know where they are. Walk slowly.”
Trent eased slowly towards the kitchen and opened the cabinet under the sink, the gun pointed at his head or his heart the whole time. “Now put half of her in one back and the other half in the other bag. You can carry her out back and then start digging the hole.” Trent’s eyes widened at the thought but he did as he was told. As he pulled the trash bag up over her legs he hooked it onto her heels.
“Brent, give me a hand it’s too much with the heels.”
“I can’t do that, I’m sorry but I need to keep this gun on me in case you try something.”
“Brent, come on please. Like you said we’re both in this now, if we get caught we both go to jail! Just help me get her feet in the bag!” Brent studied him a long moment before placing the gun on the floor and coming over to help. As he walked over Trent grabbed a table lamp resting on a small end-table behind him and slammed it down hard on Brent’s head. He raced for the phone on the end-table on the other side of the couch and immediately began dialing 9-1-1.
“Hello, 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
“I need--” Trent stopped short as he felt pain spread from his lower back through-out his body. Gurgles were the only thing he could get out of his mouth as he loosened his grip on the phone and fell to the floor. With blood dripping from the front of his head, Brent raced to the phone with its frantic “hellos” coming from the other end, and hung it up.
Trent stared up at him as he pointed the gun at his head. Gurgling, His eyes wide with shock and fear, Trent reached out to him before the final bullet went through his skull, his arm going limp at his side. Brent backed away and fell against the couch, his shoulders heaving and tears falling heavily from his eyes as the realization of what he’d done registered in his brain. Five minutes of this passed before bright red and blue lights covered him with their hypnotic glow.

“…cuse me… Excuse me… Excuse me! Mr. Duploy!” An officer snapped Brent out of his trance. The pain of the handcuffs and dank smell of the interrogation room slowly brought him back to reality. He glanced towards the mirror, knowing his mother was standing behind there, watching him.
“If you could take a moment to answer our questions please, Mr. Duploy.” The officer said glancing from the photos and police reports back up to the boy. “Would you like to tell me where you were during the time of the shooting on August 5?” Brent stared at him, expressionless, for a long time before grinning.
“Where were you?”

Well, WELCOME, first off. We're glad to have you. XD

Now...Mind Of A Psycho...I swear to God...when I was reading that poem in your join request, my expression went like this: eek Except with my mouth open. I LOVE IT. First, the rhyme is real nice, and it all flows very well. All around, the poem itself it good.

But the story, the words themselves...wonderful. At first it gives you the feeling of you helping someone, makes it feel nice in a saddish way. Then it gets violent and demented, like you just snapped, and I love it. The reader isn't prepared for it, even with the title being what it is.

But anyways, I really like it. And I look forward to reading more of your stuff soon!

Wow....Well, first, I don't think Dear Diary is going too far... I actually LOVE it.

It makes me want to cry...and most things don't. Really well written, especially from the POV of a child. Damn...it's just so emotional...so heartbreaking. And so true. Perhaps the particular incident isn't a true account...but things like it happen all the time, and you really were able to show a certain side I haven't seen or heard before: the side of the victim, the confused and hurt child. I really love it, and I'm glad you wrote it and posted it here. Great job, really.