Read Online Diary of the Gone by Ivan Amberlake - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ivan Amberlake
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leave me alone.
***
I awoke to an
unfriendly, gray dawn. 4:47 am glowed on my electric clock. Knowing I wouldn’t
be able to get back to sleep, I untangled myself from the sheets
and climbed onto the windowsill.
At least it’s not
raining today, I
thought.
When I had a spare minute I always
took my diary to jot down a line or two. I’d grown so used to the
dog-eared pages where I could write about my secret that the idea
of someone else’s fingers caressing its spine, someone else’s eyes
reading the lines never meant to be shared with anyone, made me
feel hollow inside.
Why would anyone even steal my diary
in the first place? I did get a few people in Olden Cross who hated
me, but they were not clever enough to get into my room and take
the diary.
No matter how hard I wished to
suppress the idea, it crackled in my head like the static of Greg’s
voice: it’s the one who killed Greg and kidnapped
Nathan.
And I was supposed to know where to
find him, according to Greg.
To take my mind off things, I decided
to clean my room. First I picked up the can of coke I’d dropped
last night at the sight of Greg, then made my bed, evening out the
creases on the sheets and blanket. Books piled my desk, so I
stacked them on the bookshelves. Bringing my CDs to order was the
hardest part. I always put them in the wrong cases, so it took me
awhile to place every disk where it belonged.
After this had been done, I rewarded
myself by fishing out a Sum41 album, plugged earphones into my ears
and hit the Play button of my old CD player.
As punk rock energy assaulted my
brain, I looked out of the window to see a lonely ray of wan light
breaking through the thick pall of the clouds.
Maybe it wasn’t going to be another
bad day, I hoped.
Bev kept silent at breakfast, Mom
fussing around us pretty much the usual way. No one was brave
enough to bring up the topic of me finding Greg in the Swamps. Mom
didn’t chide me for going out there.
When I grabbed my half-empty bag to
leave for school, Bev called out, “Wait for me.”
It was so unexpected I even asked,
“Are you talking to me?”
“ Sure, sissy pants.” She
rolled her eyes, turning for a few seconds into the sister I
loathed.
As we walked down the road to school,
the tension built up inside me. Beverly’s silence held more meaning
than her abuses. Her black hair streamed down her shoulders, a
shield against me. She swept it behind her back in one swift
motion, then turned to me.
“ I know you were out there
at night,” she said.
“ Were you watching
me?”
“ As a matter of fact, I
was. Maybe it’s time for you to stop it? What if…?” Words failed
her for a moment. “What if something’s going to happen to
you?”
“ You’ll survive,” I
scoffed.
“ Maybe I will. But Mom
won’t.” She turned away.
After a few moments of silence she
asked, “Did you find anything?”
Caught off guard, I wasn’t sure what
to reply. I definitely wasn’t going to break the news to her of a
girl being kidnapped, or about meeting Wayne there. She would find
out about the former in good time while the latter would stay with
me. Why bother her, right?
“ No, I didn’t,” I
said.
We were close to
school, and I could feel the stares Bev’s classmates and friends
gave us as we passed them. I knew she’d tell them later she had to take me to school
because Mom had made her. I lowered my eyes to the ground not to
see suspicion and scorn in theirs.
To relieve Bev of myself, I said I
needed to go and get ready for my class. “By the way, there’s your
boyfriend … and the jerkface.” I flung a hateful stare at Terry
Haubert and Stan Crosby. Even though I didn’t owe Terry a grudge,
he was friends with the one I hated more than anyone in Olden
Cross.
Bev scoffed quietly, then moved
towards them without saying a word to me.
Before I’d gotten into trouble, I
trotted away from them, joining the crowd that to my relief paid no
attention to my
***
I awoke to an
unfriendly, gray dawn. 4:47 am glowed on my electric clock. Knowing I wouldn’t
be able to get back to sleep, I untangled myself from the sheets
and climbed onto the windowsill.
At least it’s not
raining today, I
thought.
When I had a spare minute I always
took my diary to jot down a line or two. I’d grown so used to the
dog-eared pages where I could write about my secret that the idea
of someone else’s fingers caressing its spine, someone else’s eyes
reading the lines never meant to be shared with anyone, made me
feel hollow inside.
Why would anyone even steal my diary
in the first place? I did get a few people in Olden Cross who hated
me, but they were not clever enough to get into my room and take
the diary.
No matter how hard I wished to
suppress the idea, it crackled in my head like the static of Greg’s
voice: it’s the one who killed Greg and kidnapped
Nathan.
And I was supposed to know where to
find him, according to Greg.
To take my mind off things, I decided
to clean my room. First I picked up the can of coke I’d dropped
last night at the sight of Greg, then made my bed, evening out the
creases on the sheets and blanket. Books piled my desk, so I
stacked them on the bookshelves. Bringing my CDs to order was the
hardest part. I always put them in the wrong cases, so it took me
awhile to place every disk where it belonged.
After this had been done, I rewarded
myself by fishing out a Sum41 album, plugged earphones into my ears
and hit the Play button of my old CD player.
As punk rock energy assaulted my
brain, I looked out of the window to see a lonely ray of wan light
breaking through the thick pall of the clouds.
Maybe it wasn’t going to be another
bad day, I hoped.
Bev kept silent at breakfast, Mom
fussing around us pretty much the usual way. No one was brave
enough to bring up the topic of me finding Greg in the Swamps. Mom
didn’t chide me for going out there.
When I grabbed my half-empty bag to
leave for school, Bev called out, “Wait for me.”
It was so unexpected I even asked,
“Are you talking to me?”
“ Sure, sissy pants.” She
rolled her eyes, turning for a few seconds into the sister I
loathed.
As we walked down the road to school,
the tension built up inside me. Beverly’s silence held more meaning
than her abuses. Her black hair streamed down her shoulders, a
shield against me. She swept it behind her back in one swift
motion, then turned to me.
“ I know you were out there
at night,” she said.
“ Were you watching
me?”
“ As a matter of fact, I
was. Maybe it’s time for you to stop it? What if…?” Words failed
her for a moment. “What if something’s going to happen to
you?”
“ You’ll survive,” I
scoffed.
“ Maybe I will. But Mom
won’t.” She turned away.
After a few moments of silence she
asked, “Did you find anything?”
Caught off guard, I wasn’t sure what
to reply. I definitely wasn’t going to break the news to her of a
girl being kidnapped, or about meeting Wayne there. She would find
out about the former in good time while the latter would stay with
me. Why bother her, right?
“ No, I didn’t,” I
said.
We were close to
school, and I could feel the stares Bev’s classmates and friends
gave us as we passed them. I knew she’d tell them later she had to take me to school
because Mom had made her. I lowered my eyes to the ground not to
see suspicion and scorn in theirs.
To relieve Bev of myself, I said I
needed to go and get ready for my class. “By the way, there’s your
boyfriend … and the jerkface.” I flung a hateful stare at Terry
Haubert and Stan Crosby. Even though I didn’t owe Terry a grudge,
he was friends with the one I hated more than anyone in Olden
Cross.
Bev scoffed quietly, then moved
towards them without saying a word to me.
Before I’d gotten into trouble, I
trotted away from them, joining the crowd that to my relief paid no
attention to my
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