Entry #1 Delia Langston

The first Entry for Delia Langston, the main protagonist in the novel.

Entry #1

Delia Langston

 

             "Jackson," I yelled across the yard to my dog, as he rose from "doing his business". Jackson trotted inside and positioned himself on top of the chair sitting in front of the kitchen counter. "We're outta treats Jack-Jack. I'll pick some up after school, I promise." I say to him, rubbing the spot behind his ear that makes his leg shake up and down. He seems to forget about not getting his Milkbone, and I head out the front door yelling to my mom as I leave, "Bye, Mom. Cya after school."

 Like usual I get no response. Mom works nights at the hospital and right when she gets home, plops down in her bed and clocks in to her other job, Sleeper. I throw my bag into the backseat of my 1997 Ford Fiesta and walk around to the driver's seat. I jiggle the door handle three times up and down and it comes open. The old piece of junk barely opened anymore, but the Fiesta was my dad's car and it’s the only thing I had left of him.

Dad died around 2 years ago from lung cancer. He knew the risk of smoking. He knew what could have happened to him; and so did I. I warned him over and over, but I knew there was no getting to him. Smoking was the one thing that seemed to relieve my dad of all his stress, so I just let him. I think for a while I blamed myself. I thought about all the times he and I were on the back porch and he was smoking cigarette after cigarette and I would tell him: “You know one day those things are gonna kill you!”

I was kidding at the time. The thought of actually losing him had never crossed my mind; it was always just a joke he and I had. Then one day I come home from school and my mom and dad are sitting around the dining room table, hovering over full cups of coffee that must have been sitting there for a while because there was no steam emanating from inside the cups. I walked into the dining room slowy.

“Um…this isn’t one of those things where you ship me off to some Catholic boarding school because im failing Spanish right? Because I can get my grade back up, I promise! And if you’re going to send me to a boarding school make it something other than Catholic school. Catholicism isn’t really my favorite religion; maybe we can do like some Buddhist school in China or something! Or maybe…”

“I have cancer honey.”

That was that. I didn’t believe them at first. I was in denial, but then I was just overwhelmed with sadness. I ran over to my dad and just hugged him and I never wanted to let him go because maybe if I just held him, he wouldn’t be taken away from me. That was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to lose my dad.

8 months later I did. The cancer had spread rapidly and basically there was no amount of Kemo or surgery that could have saved him. But I could have. I could have made him stop smoking, so there was a short while that I was angry with myself for not being more persistent in trying to make him stop. Of course, I got over it after a while. It was my dad’s choice to be a smoker. That is how he wanted to live his life and I was just going to have to accept that. I missed him, yes, but he was gone and there was nothing I could do.

My mom, however, approached things differently. She wasn’t mad at herself for not making him stop smoking; she was mad at him for smoking in the first place. She loved him so much and missed him so much more when he was gone, but it was almost like she had some form of hatred towards him when he died. She went through this strange mourning phase where she got rid of everything that had anything to do with him.

I remember coming home from a friend’s house one Saturday night and there was an empty and a half-empty bottle of wine on the kitchen counter; garbage bags filled with mementos and trinkets that my dad had collected throughout the years littered the house. I went out to our backyard and she was dancing and twirling around with her glass of wine in one hand and a pile of pictures in the other. She would execute a little ballet twirl and then chuck a picture into the fire that was burning in our fire pit. Of course I was upset; she was destroying all the memories I had of my father. And they weren’t just memories anymore, they were the final memories. No new memories were going to be made; this was it.

I ran over to her and grabbed the pile of pictures from her hands. She turned and faced me. A look of shock and terror spread across her pale face. She staggered towards me, drunk as can be, and slapped me right across the face.

“He did this to himself Delia! He took his own life! He took his own life and left us here, alone! I don’t need to be reminded of that! I don’t need to be reminded of the time I spent with him!”

“Yes you do, mom! He is gone! Gone forever and he isn’t coming back and that means that this is all we have of him! There isn’t going to be anything else! You need to be reminded of the time you spent with him, because you don’t get to spend any more time with him! Ever!” Tears spilled out of my eyes and ran down my face with the force of the Niagara Falls. I was angry at my mom. She was angry too.

She slapped me again and threw the rest of the pictures into the fire. The fire was almost put out by the force of the falling pictures, but after a second the flames engulfed all the images I had of my dad.

My mom turned to me like she was going to slap me again, I could see the anger in her eyes, but the anger turned to sorrow in seconds and before I knew it we were on the ground. I was holding her head in my lap and stroking her hair as she whaled, “Just let me do this Delia. Just let me do this.”

 She was taking my father’s death so hard and it was hard for me to let his possessions go, but if it was going to make things easier for my mom, it was worth it.

So, the Ford Fiesta was all I had left, it still smelled of his Marlboro cigarettes. He always tried to cover the smell with one of those crappy pine tree fresheners, but then it just smelled like all of my childhood Christmases.

 I pulled into the parking lot of the high school and got out of my car. I popped the trunk with the key, retrieved my guitar, then slid onto the hood and strummed a couple chords until the first bell rang. I put my guitar back and grabbed my bag from the backseat. As I walked into the building, Tyson (Tye for short) came up and put his arm around my shoulder.

"Sorry, Delia. My dad showed up on the porch drunk this morning and I had to help him out a little.” Tye said, “How's your morning going?"

Tye was my boyfriend of almost 3 years. We had been going through the same type of family situations; Tye's younger brother, Ronnie, also had cancer. Tye and I spent numerous nights together in the hospital cafeteria, just talking, that’s how we developed our relationship.

He actually asked me out in that cafeteria, probably the most romantic place ever right? He made up for it by being incredibly cute in the way he actually asked me. It was a late night and I had just gotten done seeing my dad. We had agreed to meet in the cafeteria after we were done visiting with our families and I arrived first. It wasn’t unusual to me that I arrived first because I figured he had just gotten hung up with his family and would be down shortly. However, what was weird was the envelope placed at the table where Tye and I would normally sit. I pulled out the chair in front of the note and sat down to read it.

I forgot something in my brother’s room.

Here’s a dollar for the vending machine.

Attached to the note was a dollar that I ripped off and took over to the vending machine. E9. The code to get my favorite candy in the whole wide world, Skittles. I entered the two digits and down came my Skittles packet, but it didn’t make a loud-thud like Skittles would normally do falling to the ground. Instead, it fell softly, like a feather.

I retrieved the package and found that it had already been opened and inside there was a piece of paper.

Sorry you didn’t get any Skittles.

Want a boyfriend instead?

I turned around and Tye was standing there with a packet of Skittles in one hand and a rose in the other.

“How about it?”

Of course I said yes, what kind of girl is going to say no to something like that? We kissed and hugged and from there we have never looked back.

Fortunately, Tye’s brother was declared cancer-free about a month before my dad had passed away and now we don’t have to spend any more in that hospital cafeteria.

Tye's dad is a different story. He spends hours at strip clubs and bars, drinking and hitting on a bunch of married women. Tye's parents are divorced but when his dad gets really drunk, he normally shows up on Tye's porch begging for some help. I lost count of how many “Sorry, my dad got drunk again” stories I have heard.

            "No problem," I said, turning my head and smiling up at him, "I just practiced guitar for awhile." Tye led me to his locker where I kissed him and then preceded to go to my own locker. Before I could reach my locker, however, I was stopped by my Spanish teacher, Mrs. Trinkowski. She was the last person I wanted to see on this Monday morning. I had taken a Spanish test on Friday that I may have cheated on, so this probably wasn’t good news.

            "Ms. Langston," Trinkowski started, "I just wanted to say...great job on that test from Friday! Highest grade in the class!”

            "Uh...Thanks," I responded giving her a quick smile and then continuing my walk to my locker.

Teachers at Hawthorne Community High School are ignorant. You could commit a murder and you still wouldn’t get a detention. It does, however, make being a high school student ten times easier.

 I entered my combination into my locker and opened it. I placed my bag inside, retrieved the books I needed for first hour and grabbed a pen from the top shelf of my locker. I slammed the locker shut and turned to the side only to be frightened by Tye. "Jeez...dont do that! You wanna gimme a heart attack?"

            "Of course not!” he responded, intertwining his hand with mine and leading me down the hallway. We came to an intersection in the hallway where he has to go one way and I the other. "I'll cya later" was all he said as he pulled me in for a kiss and then turned and walked down the hallway.

            "I love you," I called to him as he walked away. He turned around and mouthed the words "I love you too" back to me. I watched as he walked down the hallway and then left for my first class. The bell rang as I was entering the room.

            "Just in time Ms. Langston," said my Calculus teacher Mr. Waltman. I gave him a nod and a crooked smile and sat down in my seat. That day the lesson was about...um...well I don’t really know. The minute he started teaching I rested my head on my notebook and dozed off. The bell woke me up and I sat up, messed with my hair and left the classroom. The rest of the school day went by in a blur. I see Tye a couple of times during the day, so that’s what keeps me interested in school, but without him, I find school the most pointless 6 hours of my life. I learn practically nothing during the day and there are at least 17 occasions where I find myself asking “When am I ever going to use this s**t?” I think there is some law that requires me to go to school though, so I do; that doesn’t mean I put any effort into it.

 After 7th hour, the last hour of the day, I return to my locker for the last time and grab all the stuff I need for the night. I slammed my locker and walked over to Tye’s locker, where he was chatting it up with one of his friends. I approached him, kissed him on the cheek and whispered into his ear.

            “Cya later.” I gave him a smile and a wink as I walked away backwards. He looked at me as if he was expecting more than just a kiss on the cheek, but returned a smile of his own. I turned around and walked outside. I found my car, got in, and drove home.

 In less than 10 minutes, I pulled into my driveway. My normal parking spot, however, was occupied by a brown Lincoln Town Car. Weird, we never have company, I thought as I grabbed my backpack from the backseat of my car and walked towards my house. The front door was opened ever so slightly. I pushed it open the rest of the way and stepped inside. Almost instantaneously, Jackson came running towards me, barking frantically. “Whoa! Hey buddy, what’s wrong?” I said to him, bending down, expecting him to run right into my arms. He instead ignored me, and darted straight out the front door, which I had ignorantly left open behind me.

 “Jackson! Come back! NOW!” I yelled, as I watched him run across the street. I dropped my backpack on the ground and darted after him. I found him with a woman who had lured Jackson in with a cookie. I muttered the words “thank you” to her as I picked Jackson up and headed back home.

“Jack-Jack, don’t ever do that again. Bad boy.” He looked up at me with his puppy dog eyes and I couldn’t help but laugh a little. As I was about to cross the street back to my house, I saw someone coming through my front door. I stepped back a little bit, and found a bush to hide behind to avoid being seen. There were two men, wearing black suits and black gloves, coming out of my house. The second man, who was significantly bigger than the first, closed the door behind him. They were both looking around my front yard, and I heard one of them say something along the lines of “I heard her.” They both took the black gloves off their hands and threw them into a bush next to my house. The smaller man got into the driver’s seat of the Town Car, as the bigger man went over to my tiny Fiesta. He cupped his hand over his eyes and glanced inside. He looked around and then appeared to turn around and beckon to the smaller man. They had a conversation that I couldn’t make out, but it must have ended with the smaller man wanting to leave, because the bigger man got into the passenger’s side of the Town Car and the car backed out of my driveway, and drove away from my house. “What’s going on, Jackson?” I asked my dog, who I didn’t really expect an answer from. I stood up from behind the bush, and moved towards the street. I looked off and saw the Town Car turn left on a street a little ways away. I turned back towards my house and started crossing the street. I was a little more than half way across, when I heard a soft click, and I watched my house explode right in front of me.

            I can’t really explain what had just happened to me, other than that it hurt a lot. The force of the blast knocked me backwards a good couple of feet and I landed on my back. My head hit the pavement of the street hard, light flashed in my eyes and there was a ringing in my ears. Jackson was out of my arms and barking ferociously at my house, thinking that maybe he could help stop the flames from engulfing all the memories that lay inside. I laid there for what seemed like days, sirens from fire trucks and police cars blared around me and a medical team came towards me. There were 4 or 5 people crouching around me. I felt a needle stick into my lower arm and then a rush of fluids entered my body. I felt numb. I knew in my mind that I shouldn’t close my eyes. I knew that I might have a concussion from falling on my head. I knew that there was a chance I would never wake up again if I did close my eyes. But my eyelids felt like they were being forced closed. I tried with all the strength left in my body to keep them open, but it was no use. My eyes closed and everything stopped.

 

 

 

 

 

Entry #1 (continued)

Delia Langston

            I slowly opened my eyes. Everything was a blur at first. I moved my eyes slowly to the left, and then quickly looked to the right. I could make out the patterns of what I assumed were people, hovering around me. The light was glowing around them, making them look almost heavenly.

I’m dead.

That was the first thought that popped into my mind. I’m dead, and these are all angels. The back of my head throbbed with pain and I gave a little yelp.

            “Delia? Delia, can you hear me?” This was Tye’s voice. This was the only voice I wanted to hear right now. “Delia, talk to me.”

            “Tye?” was what I managed to mutter. My throat was coarse like sandpaper, and that single word made the back of my throat burn as if being pronged by a hot iron. One of the figures hovered closer towards me. The blur went away as soon as I caught of glimpse of his long, brown hair. He put his hand on my forehead and wiped a piece of hair out of my eye. His eyes met mine, and he gave me a quick smile.

            “Hey,” he said in a whisper, “how about you never scare me like that again?” He gave me another smile, and then kissed me on the forehead. He backed away and another figure hovered closer towards me. This one was unfamiliar.

            “Hello Delia. My name is Julie and I’m going to be your nurse,” said Julie. My first impression of Julie was that she had to be a mom. Her voice carried a soft tone, which instantly warmed your heart. “Alright, I’m going to have to ask you two to leave for a few minutes. I will have you back in here soon.” Julie disappeared from my sights and I was left staring at the tiles of the ceiling. There was the sound of feet shuffling across the floor and then the room was completely silent, other than a strange beeping noise that I assumed was coming from some sort of medical machine. I slowly tilted my head to the right, wanting to get a look around, but as soon as I did a pain shot from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. I decided that keeping my head still was the best idea for now.

“Whoa there, sweetheart. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Julie said as she popped back into view. She was standing on my left, her hands messing with something above my head. There was a slight thwack as she hit a button and my body slowly started rising. My bed was leaning forward and I was starting to sit up. I caught the first glimpse of a part of my hospital room that wasn’t the ceiling. The room was small, with a doorway directly across from my bed. 4 chairs were lined up against the wall to my right, two of which had a pillow laying on them. To my left, there was a TV hanging from the wall, The Office was playing on the screen but the volume was muted. I tried to move my head a little to the right, in order to see what Julie was doing. This time I was more cautious with my movements. I lifted my head ever so slightly off of the pillow that was lying underneath my head. There was a tingling in the back of my head, but I felt almost no pain. I slowly turned my head to the right. The tingling stopped and still no pain was felt. I laid my head down and looked at Julie. Her eyes met mine almost instantly, meaning she had watched me go through that whole process. I imagined it looked pretty ridiculous.

            “Hi,” I said, my throat burning in pain. My voice was raspy and was barely understandable. Julie could tell.

            “Here," Julie said, as she moved over to a table underneath the TV and poured water from a small, pink pitcher into a cup, “Drink this, sweetheart.” She placed the cup up against my lips and I opened my mouth. She poured the ice, cold liquid right into my mouth. It took me a second to swallow, but when I did, the cold provided instant relief to my dry throat.

            “Thank you,” I said, as I watched her place the cup on the table and move back towards my bed. She reached up and grabbed my IV bag.

            “Looks like you’re almost out. I’ll be right back.” She gave me a quick pat on my hand and then exited the room. I was alone. Alone in a hospital room, unable to move with The Office playing on the TV with no sound. Super.

 

 

            I guess I dosed off a little after Julie left, because the next time I woke up I was flat in my bed again. I was staring once again at the blank ceiling tiles. I didn’t know if anyone knew I was awake, and I didn’t feel like lying like this any longer, so I slowly started to lift my arm. Everything was weak, so even a simple task like this took a lot of effort. I was hoping this movement would get the attention of someone in my room. I was right.

            “Nurse, she’s awake again,” said a female voice to my right. It was soft and quiet, and barely recognizable. I was hoping it was my mother though. I hadn’t seen her at all since the explosion and if there was one thing I needed it was a hug and kiss from my mom.

It wasn’t my mom though; it was Tye’s mom, Sarah. She came up to my bedside and brushed the hair out of my face, just like her son had done earlier. “Hey Delia, how are you feeling?” I didn’t know how to answer, I felt lousy but I felt better than I had the first time I woke up.

            “Fine,” was the only word that came to my mind. Julie appeared on the other side of my bed, opposite of Tye’s mom. She messed with something above my head again, and my bed once again started rising. This time my room wasn’t empty. Balloons were placed on the table below the TV and next to those was my pink backpack. Tye was sitting in one of the chairs against the right wall, talking on the phone. He gave me a quick smile as I looked at him, but then continued with his phone call. Julie was messing with my IV again, as Sarah had a tight grip on my right hand.

            “On a scale of 1-10. 1 being the lowest amount of pain, 10 being the highest, how much pain is you feeling?” Julie asked me, as she handed me a remote that I could use to control the TV and operate my bed. I considered the question before I answered, which is when it dawned on me. I still had no clue about what had happened at my house.

            “What happened?” was what I said.

            “Huh?” Julie replied giving me a puzzled look, “That’s not a number, sweetheart.” I realized she was trying to be cute with her last statement but I really could have cared less.

            “What happened with my house? With the explosion, with…with the men, and with Jackson!”

            “Slow down Delia, we will explain everything” Tye started, as he hit a button on his phone to end the call he had just been on, “but right now isn’t the best time. I mean you hit your head pretty hard and…”

            “What happened?” I asked for a third time, completely ignoring Tye and turning to his mom, hoping someone could just tell me what happened. “Please.”

            “Well, the police said it was a gas leak. Your mom didn’t really…”

            “My mom! My mom, where is she? Is she okay?” I cut her off, not really caring about what happened to my house as much anymore as to what had happened to my mother. She had to be in the hospital somewhere, I mean I felt horrible, which meant I was probably in horrible condition so my mom had to be here. She had to be here with her daughter; that was part of her job. I thought that she could have been at the house, dealing with the aftermath; telling insurance agents what had happened or overseeing the clean up; but she didn’t leave my side when I was in the hospital for a broken wrist, she sure as hell wouldn’t leave my side right now. Where was she?

 Sarah looked around the room. She glanced at her son, who looked down at the ground. The room was silent again, just like it was when I had woken up. I looked around the room from person to person, hoping someone would give me the answer to my question. “Please, just tell me,” I spoke in a soft whisper, my glance fixed on Tye, who was still staring at the ground.

            “Delia,” Sarah said. I could hear the hesitation within her voice. “Your mom...Your mom didn’t make it out of your house.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

“Your mom is...,” she paused for a second before finishing, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, “Your mom is dead, Delia.”

Dead. That four letter, one syllable word was the last word I wanted to have come out of Sarah’s mouth. I leaned back into my bed, as I heard Sarah and Tye mutter things like: “I am so sorry” and “We are here for you Delia” but I ignored them. I didn’t pay attention to anything going on around me. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mom. Her face just kept popping up in my thoughts.

 I grabbed the remote that controlled my bed and pushed the down button. My bed slowly started lowering. Julie was still messing with my IV and Sarah was still standing next to my bed, but as far as I was concerned, they weren’t there at all. I lowered my bed all the way down until I was left staring at the ceiling tiles. I stared at those damn ceiling tiles for hours, until finally, I fell asleep.

 

Entry #1 (continued)

Delia Langston

 

            Three weeks. That’s how long I was in the hospital. I was lonely. Tye came every day after school let out and that was nice, but he only stayed for a couple of hours or so. My grandpa and grandma came up from Florida to see me, and to take care of things pertaining to my mother’s death, but they left after a week. I was alone most of the time.

            The police stopped by to ask me some questions about the explosion. I told them everything, including the part about the two men who exited the house before the explosion. I knew the house didn’t explode because of a gas leak, those two men had something to do with it, but no one believed me. I gave up trying to convince everyone after awhile, and concentrated on trying to get better.

            The day before I was released from the hospital, Julie came in to my room to check my vitals. It was the normal routine. I had two other nurses during my stay but Julie was the only one I liked. There was this one nurse, her name was Cindy, every time she would come to check on me or give me my medicine, she would complain about how she was caught having an affair. I guess she nailed every doctor in the hospital before her husband found out and now he is pissed as hell. But anyway, that day Julie came in, checked my vitals and then asked me if I would like to go on a walk.

            “Yeah, that would be great.” I replied. I had just started walking around my hospital ward two days earlier. It felt really nice to get up and wander. Julie and I went on our normal route. We walked past the main desk, took a right and went towards the elevators. From there we did a little U-Turn and headed for the waiting area, which had the vending machines. Julie would always pay the 95 cents it took to get me a candy bar. I always got Skittles, of course, and Julie would get a Payday (She said she liked all the peanuts). We would sit down on the chairs in the waiting room and enjoy our little treats. The waiting room had the most comfortable chairs I had ever sat in. I’m not even kidding, these chairs were like the perfect combination of firm and soft and it always felt so good to sit in those chairs. I know it seems silly to be so amazed by chairs found in a hospital waiting room, but I always thought it was funny how comfortable they were. I thought the hospital was trying to compensate for all the death and sickness and sadness that happened within its’ walls, by providing those who had to experience the hardships of having a sick loved one, with comfortable chairs. Sort of like: “I know your son or wife or father is dying, but if you go to the waiting room and wait for the doctor to decide what to do to prevent that, we have chairs that are REALLY comfortable”. It’s like the chairs are going to prevent the bad news the doctor has when he comes through the waiting room doors. The thought always sickened me so after finishing my treat, we would walk back towards the elevators, do another U-Turn and then go back to my room.

            “You know, they are talking about letting you go tomorrow,” Julie said, as she was helping me back into my bed.

            “Oh really?” was what I replied with. This was the first time I thought about leaving the hospital. It felt like this was the only place I belonged. I mean, my house and my mother are gone; there was no other place to go.

            Julie finished helping me back into bed, grabbed me a container of apple juice, and then left. I was alone again. Shocker. I grabbed the remote that worked the TV and turned it on. I flipped through the channels at least 20 times before I found a show I wanted to watch. Phineas and Ferb. Definitely wasn’t my first choice but it’s not like the hospital had Direct TV or something like that. I drank my apple juice and watched Phineas and Ferb in silence. It was times like these that were the worst. It was times like these that made me think of my mother. The most random thoughts would pop into my head. That day, the memory that made its’ way into my head was when my mom took me to get Jackson.

 

            It was a cold, winter’s day. I was 9 years old and I was bundled up from head to toe in winter clothing, kind of like the little kid in A Christmas Story. My mom told me we were just going to Applebee’s for dinner, but she tricked me. We drove right past Applebee’s and pulled into the Humane

Society. I was so confused. She grabbed my hand and walked me into the building. There was a room to my left, right when I walked in, that was filled with the cutest cats in the world. I remember pulling my mom’s arm, trying to get her to show me the cats.

“Maybe another time Delia,” she said, “We are here for another reason.” I almost cried because I was so upset. We stopped at the front desk and my mom did some talking to the lady sitting behind it. A few seconds past after my mom was done talking, and then a woman came out from the door right next to the front desk. She looked down at me and smiled.

            “Right this way,” she said, beckoning for us to follow her. My mom had the most precious look on her face. I think she was more excited than I was, but I think it was because she knew that I was going to love having a dog. The woman led us down a narrow hallway and we stopped at a doorway. Behind that door came the sound of innocent barks and whelps. My face instantly lit up. I turned my mom around by her hand, and hugged her so tight. She hugged me back instantly. This part of the memory kind of caught me off guard. When I remembered that hug in my mind, I felt the warmness of my mom’s hug and I smelt her perfume. My eyes instantly filled with tears.

            After the woman opened the door, my mom and I walked into the room. The room was small and the back wall was lined with metal crates stacked on top of each other. I assumed this is where the dogs slept. It took me some time to gather my surroundings, there were so many dogs and each one as cute as can be. I probably went up to every dog in that tiny room and petted them on the head. I instantly fell in love with a black Labrador retriever. I called for my mom.

            “Mommy! Come here,” I yelled, “I want this one!” My mother came up to me. I was on my knees, hugging the black lab.

            “Well, take some time to make your decision Delia,” my mom said, “We will have this dog for awhile.” I took my mom’s advice and went around looking at the dogs again. To me, no dog compared to that black lab; that is until I saw Jackson. I was just about to go back to the black lab, when I glanced at my mom, who was standing by the door. Behind her, in the corner was a small, white Cocker Spaniel. I went up to the dog and hovered over him for a bit. He didn’t notice I was there at first, but when he saw me, he instantly jumped up from lying down, and started wagging his tail. I smiled and as if to please me, he got up on his hind legs and started walking. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen, and it made me forget about that black lab I had begged my mom for a few seconds ago. My mind was made up. I told my mom, she agreed, and we left with him that day.

            The whole way home, he sat in my lap, facing me, and licking my face. I was so excited; I could have cared less about all the slobber that was on my face. My mom kept laughing as she watched. I remember looking over at her, meeting her glare with my eyes and we both just cracked up laughing. That dog brought us together on that day, and it was probably the best memory I had of my mom.

As I remembered it then, I pulled my blankets over my head and cried. I cried because I missed my mom. I missed her so damn much, I couldn’t stand it. I needed her to get by, she was my lifeline and without her I was a mess. I stayed underneath those blankets for hours. I finally came out, when Julie came into my room.

            “Hey sweetheart. My shift is about to end, so I was just dropping in to say goodbye,” she said. She saw the redness in my eyes, and knew I was crying. She grabbed the box of tissues that were placed under the TV and handed it to me. I blew my nose a couple of times and composed myself. She gave me a sly smile and took the box of tissues away. “You okay?” she asked.

            “Yeah,” I said, sniffling a little, “I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.

            She turned off the lights in my room and left. I had just rolled over to try and get some sleep, when I heard footsteps in my room.

            “Miss me too much?” I asked, in a joking matter as I rolled over. I was expecting Julie to be standing in my room. Instead, a man about 6 feet tall, in a brown overcoat, was hovering over my bed.

            “Hello Delia,” the man said,

            “Who are you?” I said, pulling my blankets closer, thinking they would protect me from any harm.

            “My name is Mr. Wilson Albright,” the man said, extending his hand towards me, expecting me to shake it. I did no such thing.

            “What do you want?” I said, trying to move back in my bed, to put as much distant between Mr. Albright and me.

            “I’m here to give you a gift of some sorts,” Mr. Albright said. His tone was comforting in a way that seemed all too familiar to me.

             “Listen, I don’t know who you are, or how you got in here but I’ll have my nurses get security.”

            “That won’t be necessary,” he said. Apparently my threat didn’t faze him. “Here, take this. It was your father’s.” Mr. Albright handed me a manila envelope. It was heavy, and I could tell it was filled with a lot of papers.

            “What-“

            “Just read,” he said, cutting me off, “It will explain what happened to your mother.” He turned towards the door and left before I could say anything else.

            I was befuddled for a second. I stared out the door for a few minutes, trying to comprehend what just happened. At first, it kind of felt like a dream, but after awhile, I came back to reality. I turned my attention to the manila envelope sitting on my lap. I turned on the lights over my bed with the remote and looked over the envelope. The back was sealed shut, and on the front, my name was printed in what looked like Sharpie marker. I flipped it around a couple of times in my hand, thinking about what it could be. Finally, I flipped to the back of the envelope and broke the seal. I opened it up and emptied the contents onto my bed.

            Out of the envelope fell a big chunk of papers. The papers were held together by three staples that had been stapled into the side. I glared over the packet of papers, what was written on the cover almost made me jump out of my own skin. Written in big, bold letters in the center of the page was:

PRIVATE

The Personal Diaries

Of

Gregory Langston

 

            Gregory Langston. The name of my father.

 

 

Entry #1 (continued)

Delia Langston

 

 I didn’t even look at the Diary for a couple of days.

 I was released from the hospital the day after I was visited by Mr. Albright, and with nowhere else to go, I ended up staying at Tye’s house. His mom was nice enough to let me stay in their spare bedroom, but she was also nice enough to let Jackson stay with me. That poor dog had been through so much. He was partly deaf in both ears due to the immense sound given off by the explosion. Any loud noise, such as thunder or fireworks, warranted a few desperate whimpers; followed by him cowering into the corner for the rest of the night. He looked exactly the same, but to me his fur has always looked a little bit ashier since the explosion. Jackson was still my dog and I loved him, especially now since he and I were the only members of our family left.

 I was on strict bed rest, which I thought was ridiculous because I had just spent three weeks doing nothing but bed rest. I spent most of my time watching TV or doing homework that I had missed, but most of the time I just sat in silence.

I hated the lonliness that came with the silence, but it was really the only time I had to myself. It was the only time I had to really think about what I had just gone through.

My mom was gone.

My house was gone.

My life was torn up by the roots and thrown into the garbage.

I was alone.

I was scared.

I just wanted my life to get back to normal.

After another week my doctors said I could go back to school, which was not quite what I meant by my life getting back to normal. I had been out for 3 weeks, and while it’ll be nice to go back to my normal 6 hours of hell a day, I know I will break down when that final bell rings. That bell used to signify that it was time to go home. That it was time to go home and see Jackson and complain to my mom about what a boring day I had and just be a normal teenage girl.

                Now, when that bell rings, I will be stuck thinking about how it used to be and wishing that I could go back.

                Now, when that bell rings, I will be reminded that things aren’t normal at all.

It was the Sunday before I was set to return to school when the Diary finally entered my mind again. Tye was at school for the day and Sarah had gone to Jewel to get some groceries. I was laying on the couch, watching TV, when I decided I should probably work on my make-up work. I walked into the room I was staying in and grabbed my backpack. Sarah had done an exceptional job fixing up the room to really make me feel comfortable. She had gotten some of that cheap artwork from Target or Hobby Lobby and hung it on the walls. She had gotten access to my Facebook page and printed out pictures for me and framed them. The day they let me out of the hospital, I walked into the room and was taken aback. She had really gone out of her way and she definitely didn’t have to, but it was nice to know I had someone in my life that cared enough to take care of me the way she did. That isn’t what had really gotten me though.

On the night stand to the right of the bed, I noticed a picture. It was one of those pictures that had been deep in one of my Facebook albums and I had completely forgotten about it, but now, it made me break down and cry. It was a picture of my mom and I standing in front of my school. It was probably one of the last pictures I had taken with her and what really got to me was how happy we looked. We were both smiling and I could tell we had been laughing and I missed it. I missed her. I walked over to the picture and picked up the frame, holding it close to my body. I laid down on the bed and just cried. I missed her a lot.

After a short look around my room, (Sarah did such a great job I always choke up a little bit when I go in there) I returned to the living room and emptied the contents of my backpack onto the coffee table that was in front of the couch. All of my school text books fell out with a big thud, along with the Diary. The Diary was bound with leather and you could tell by looking at it, that it had seen better days. If this truly was my dad’s personal diary, he must have dragged it through mud and muck with him, because this thing was pretty beat up. I couldn’t even look at it, not because of its grotesque appearance, but because of what Mr. Albright said: “It will explain what happened to your mother.” I had been through so much, that I didn’t know if I could handle reading something like that right now. The thought put a knot in my stomach.

 I pushed the Diary off to the side of the coffee table and grabbed my Psychology textbook. My assignment: read pages 115-120 and summarize the pages in 3 paragraphs or more. I read the textbook and went to town on the summaries. I finished the paragraphs with ease and was ready to move onto my next assignment. I reached for the sheet of paper my teacher had written all of my assignments on. I grabbed it and looked for my next assignment, which happened to be: write a 2 page paper of the effects of schizophrenia on a human being. A 2 page paper huh? I thought, How about no. I threw the piece of paper back on the coffee table and sulked back into the couch with a heavy sigh. I wasn’t in the mood to do homework; frankly, I wasn’t in the mood to do anything. I sat there for a couple of minutes in silence, thinking about what I was going to do. I sat thinking about not just what I was going to do about my homework, but what I was going to do with my life. How was I going to get through? I mean, sure, I had Tye and his mom and my grandparents and a good group of friends, but that was nothing compared to the kind of love I had received from my mom and dad. They had made me feel like a princess every day of my life, and at least when my dad died I still had my mom to make me feel that way, but now I had no one. I wasn’t feeling much like a princess either.

My silence, as well as my train of thought, was interrupted by Jackson, barking at the backdoor, wanting to go outside. I rose from the couch and walked to the backdoor.

            “There ya go, Jackson,” I said as I opened the door. Jackson ran outside and I closed the door. I walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper and then went back to let Jackson in. He came right inside, jumped onto the couch, and laid down. I went over to the couch and sat down next to him. I stroked his white fur and opened my Dr. Pepper. I took a sip and then set the can down on the coffee table. I grabbed the remote and flipped channels on the TV for a while.

I just sat there on the couch, with Jackson by my side, for a few hours, until the doorbell rang. The sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the whole house and as soon as Jackson heard the ringing noise, he jumped up as fast as he could and ran to the door, barking the whole time. In his excitement, he bumped the coffee table and knocked my Dr. Pepper can over.

            “Damn it,” I said, as I turned the can right side up and went to the door.

It was just UPS dropping off a package for Sarah. I set the package on the kitchen counter and grabbed some paper towels to clean up the mess Jackson had made. I went back to the coffee table, which was now covered in a large puddle of Dr. Pepper. “What am I going to do with you, dog?” I asked Jackson, as he sat on the ground staring at me.

“Love me unconditionally, dummy.”, I muttered under my breath, putting words into my dogs mouth. I wiped up the soda, which had fortunately not gotten on any of my school work. It had, however, spilled all over the Diary. I picked the leather bound papers up and watched as soda dripped from the side. I gave the papers a little squeeze and more soda came out. I finished cleaning up the Dr. Pepper mess and threw away the paper towels. I returned to the living room, and once again plopped down on the couch. I looked at the Diary, lying there, already showing a stain from the brown liquid. I picked up the Diary and stared at the cover again. The Personal Diaries of Gregory Langston. My father never mentioned anything about a diary, but now, after my mom was killed, and after I’m left with nothing, a strange man, who snuck into MY hospital room, handed me his personal diary.

            “It will explain what happened to your mother.” Mr. Albright’s words echoed through my mind again.

I thought back to the day when my house had exploded. I thought about the two guys. It wasn’t just a coincidence that they just happened to leave my house before it erupted into a ball of flame. It couldn’t have been a gas leak…it just couldn’t have. I couldn’t know for sure, what happened to my mom or my house or my life, but I needed to find out soon, so I opened the Dr. Pepper soaked Diary and I read.

Author's Note

ignore the grammar, just lemme know if it is interesting