Memories

September 28th 2006, Thursday 4:37 pm

I don't talk much, I also don't make eye contact, especially with my peers. If I don't see them maybe they don't see me either. Senior year in high school isn't all that it's cracked up to be. My classes are fine and the teachers have a tendency to check on me. But the students, I can feel them staring right through me. I cower because I know I am different, I'm done trying to fit in. So I stay away.

I do the same with my family. I clean, I cook and tend to the animals but I try to keep to myself, as much as possible. Don't get me wrong I adore my family but I know that I am different. If I am not cooking or cleaning I can be found with the horses or dogs. However my ultimate favorite place to go is the canyon edge swinging my feet from the ledge. The wind blowing through my hair and the bliss that comes to me.

I feel so free there. No expectations, no drama, no problems to be solved. Just me and nature and all that I hold inside is released from me. I can cry there or scream into the openness. Sometimes I'll run and hike and jump around with all my dogs in the early mornings or late in the evenings. Those are the best times because the sky is bursting with color. The forever changing painting that makes me weep when no one is looking.

I do have to say that this is crazy how my pen is gliding across this paper like my hand has a mind of it's own. These words are flowing out of me as if they were trapped and now I'm letting them go. It's like not being able to breathe for so long and then once you can take a breath you are grateful.

I cannot simply express how excited I am to have this journal. It was on my desk today before the first bell rang. Once I entered my Language Arts class, I saw that there were journals on everyone's desks. I could feel the nice texture when I ran my fingers across the cover. I took off the post-it-note that had my name and I put that note to the side and I opened it as soon as I sat down. No one was in the classroom yet, like usual I was the first person there. The busy calmness in the hallways shifted to lockers slamming, footsteps landing and the noise of conversations being rushed. The second bell and the classroom was filled with presence but I still stared at the blank pages that were ready and waiting. For me. I smiled. I'm free.

“Elizabeth? Hun, we have to get going now, the snow is melting.”, Elizabeth quickly closed the the little black journal to look up at her mother, who was waiting for her to grab her jacket and come downstairs so they could head to the bus stop.

It's 5:30 on a February morning and Elizabeth can see her breath in the air. Jack and Johnathon were in the truck already upset over something, again. Elizabeth hopped into the front seat as her mother started getting after the boys while putting on her seat belt. Just another day, she thought to herself. But then again she has this strange feeling that it's not the same. She couldn't stop thinking about the journal that was in her backpack that rest on the floor in-between her knees. All she wanted to do was continue reading.

Elizabeth was finishing up her senior year in high school. She was going to be part of the class of 2022. Jack and Johnathan, the twins were both still in middle school, next year they are going to be freshman. They all lived far from their town so they had to get to the closest bus stop as early as possible.

The near future without family and the small group of friends that she had, upset her. The only thing that really, really heightened her spirits was the fact that she was going to be a lot closer to her older sister, Devana. Devana was hardly ever around but when she was she made it clear that all of her attention was on being home.

I wish I was as confident and awesome like my sister, she thought to herself as they got closer to the bus stop. Devana always had the answers and she was so popular and beautiful. Elizabeth felt like the opposite for so long and she felt less than and it saddened her that her sister would never understand her. Regardless her sister never treated her like she was less than. In fact she treated her like she was an equal.

Devana would spend hours with Elizabeth brushing her dark brown hair; laughing and catching up. Many say that Elizabeth and Devana looked like twins but Elizabeth thinks they're all saying that just to say it. She doesn't see it so she usually just shrugs it off and ignores it but Devana always just laughs and says that they are twins. Then she would wink at Elizabeth a give her that famous smile.

November 2nd 2006, Thursday Noon-ish?

Please don't look at me... I beg them all silently inside my head no matter where I go. My favorite holiday is Halloween but I hate the extra attention I get at school. Yeah I get it I'm a loner and I wear black eyeliner and I listen to some heavy music but... I don't know. Maybe I do deserve to get picked on. I've worn black since I was in grade school. My schoolmates have always shunned me or spread nasty things about me. Even when I tried opening up to make friends, I'd still prefer to be alone. No one understands me. Shit I don't even understand me. Well the lunch bell just rang I got to get to Computer Science and finish some modules. And do some touch ups on our senior project.

Elizabeth has been reading this journal and it feels like she was the one to write it. Everything written resonates within her. This person's journal doesn't mention their gender or their name. It looks like their name was written on the inside of the front cover but it was marked out with a sharpie and there are several pages that were obviously torn out throughout the book. This little black book has taken a beating and Elizabeth tries her best to take care of it.

Ever since a sweet old woman that taught drama, reading and creative writing, retired after the holidays, Elizabeth had this book. Ms. Taylor was part of the staff for decades and she handed Elizabeth this box full of old drama skits and books of great stories and she told her to dive in and enjoy. This little black book was at the bottom. She knew Elizabeth lost herself regularly in a good book. And in this journal Elizabeth did indeed lose herself, just to find herself.

Soon she got an itch to write and so she too picked up a little black book of her own. With her heart beat erupting in her ears and her mind racing she turned to the first blank page and started writing. Like a flickering candle finally lighting up everything just flew out and her pages started filling. At first she wrote why she picked up the journal. Her inspiration was her new favorite read. She always had to have this person's journal close to her to ease her mind. It felt magical knowing that she wasn't alone in the world.

With Elizabeth keeping busy with reading one journal and filling up another, time flew by. This person went through a lot that she, herself was going through. All that Elizabeth knew was that this person was from the same area and they had a lot in common with her. And they cared as much as she does. I wish oh how I wish I could meet this person and connect completely.

As the school year was coming to an end before summer break Elizabeth put the beaten up journal down on top of her desk and started packing things away. Graduation was coming up and college was right around the corner. After a while she sat down on her bed and stared out the window watching the trees slowly dancing with the wind. The transformation she felt herself going through was both exhausting and exciting. I am thankful for everything now more than ever and I only wish I could meet the person that has helped me immensely.

As if it were scripted there was a knock at her door at that very moment startling her. It was Devana! She was here! “Hey Lizzie! SURPRISE!!!” Elizabeth jumped up with a huge smile giving her sister a much needed hug.

“Mom said you were up here packing things away and sorting things out. Do you need help with any...” Devana's voice drifted off once she noticed the little black book on the desk. Slowly she walked up to it and ran her fingers over the cover and picked it up hesitating as if it were going to fall apart.

“Lizzie where did this come from?” Devana turned the book over and over in awe slowly turning the pages one by one. Then she looked up. That look she had on her face Elizabeth had never seen. Devana was in shock as if she had seen a ghost.

As Elizabeth began telling her older sister everything as Devana started to tear up. Walking to the bed and sitting down, Devana told her little sister.

“I marked out my name and torn out the pages that meant the most to me and then I threw the book away believing that everything I wrote didn't matter. That I was a horrible writer and that there wasn't any point to continue. I threw it away in Ms. Taylor's trash can. That was the last day I was in that school as a student. I had no idea that she saved it. And then she gave it to you?”

“Well yeah. Ms. Taylor knew I loved reading and she knew how I kept to myself. I don't know if she knew it was in that box but yeah... I read all of it. Well what was left of it.” Then as Elizabeth got quiet Devana got up in a hurry and rushed downstairs.

Elizabeth still sitting on her bed, couldn't believe that it was her older sisters journal this whole time. Devana came back into the room with a folder and handed it to Elizabeth. Inside it were all the torn out pages. They were riddled with details of the great days with family. Spending time with little Lizzie and tending to their then pregnant mother. Pages full of love and life.

“I saved these and they got me through everything. Rereading them changed my life knowing I had so much to be thankful for. And little sister” Devana cupped her little sisters face with her hands and she kissed her forehead and said... “I see you sister. I see you and we ARE different and that's beautiful. You are not alone and just know that I support you in all that you are and I will be here for all your questions!”

In the following year Devana gave Elizabeth $20,000 to start her career as a writer and she made sure to be her greatest fan. Devana was well known for her artwork and poetry, Devana never actually stopped writing and she feels more complete with the first journal in the bookshelf with the rest. And soon after Elizabeth reads them, maybe the younger brothers will take the journals to read as well. Maybe.