by C T Micheal
“Okay, Mel. Let’s get a grip, huh? You’re just tired and seeing shit. That’s all.” I say to myself and head home.
Despite my exhaustion, I’m anxious, on edge, and just paranoid. Kind of like when I had the TPS quarterly reports to finish at work. But obviously they aren’t my business anymore.
The drive home is fast. I barely pay attention to anything but the road in front of me. I want so badly to know who I’m supposed to help next. I bet it’s Gabi’s turn. Jon will point me in the right direction. From what I remember, there isn’t much left of the diary. I wonder how it ends.
-Chapter 17-
The morning light is glowing through the windows of the house. Cookie's nowhere to be seen from the front door. I slowly push my sneakers off my feet and walk like a zombie into the living room. My tired body comes crashing down on the couch. Cookie comes skittering from the bedroom and jumps up on the couch next to me. “Hey girl.” I mumble in a tired voice as I lay my head back on the cushion. I stroke her soft fur with my left hand. My eyes grow heavy as they close while my hand slows to a rest.
Time skips like a stone in the water when I doze off like this.
My eyes open to see it’s already afternoon outside. I look over to my left but instead of my soft dog, my hand is resting on the spine of the leather-bound diary.
“What the hell?!” I say to myself completely baffled.
When did I get up to grab it? I look around me and the couch. It must’ve already been on the couch and I didn’t bother noticing until now.
“You’re supposed to be locked up in my nightstand… Aren’t you?” I whisper to myself while my eyes glare towards the door to my bedroom.
Was I sleepwalking or did Cookie bring it out here to me? Then suddenly, out of my bedroom, comes my dog walking right up to the couch and pushing her nose into my hand that’s resting on the diary.
“Did you leave this here for me, Cookie?” I ask the dog, as I lift her up into my lap. My mind quickly accepts the conjecture when Cookie lets out a small bark and settles down on the cushion.
I take a moment as I stare down at the embroidered cover, thinking about the last entry as I try to remember what Jon had said.
Ah yeah! The new job at the vehicle detailing shop. He was dreaming of a better life. Kind of like me? Maybe I’m doing the same thing right now, wanting something exciting to happen so I can jump at whatever comes my way.
Cookie breaks my train of thought as she brushes up against my calf. She must be hungry. Begrudgingly, I pick myself up off the couch and head into the kitchen. After pouring Cookie her food, I move towards the fridge, dropping the diary on the island counter. I pull open the fridge door as I pick out a yogurt cup: blackberry. Turning around to face the island counter, I set my yogurt cup down. My eyes are still only half open. The light shining on the smooth counter is a bit more than I want to bear as it’s making everything a little hazy.
My stare, down at the diary, soon becomes the familiar trancing gaze again. But this time, I could hear voices coming from the leather cover. It’s as though I’m being called into action, but I can’t seem to budge a muscle. My gaze is locked on the diary. Come on, do something!
And something does happen! The voices become louder now. The diary even starts to move slightly. Then, a liquid starts to leak from the pages. It’s colored red. Deep red. Is it blood?! My entire body is fixated on it as it’s covering the counter while it begins to drip onto the floor as I’m completely helpless to do anything at all!
I blink my eyes just once, then catch my breath as though I was holding it for the longest time. My vision corrects itself and now I can see straight again.
The world returns to normal in an instant. The counter is clean. The diary is just laying there. No blood. Nothing.
I quickly shake off whatever that daydream was and quickly grab the diary with both hands forcing it open. “Fine, you want my attention again? What the hell do you have to say now, Jon?!” I firmly say as my hands flip the pages violently to where the lace is bookmarking. I turn the page to see the next entry: it’s a blank page. Blank? Jon’s never left a random page unwritten. “Maybe that’s it?” I whisper to myself, half-hoping that there was no more negativity to journal about.
The next page I turn to make my eyes widen.
The entry was written in a deep red color. Crimson red.
Jon was using crimson ink. Or, at least I hope it’s just ink!
I touch to feel the handwriting with my index and middle finger slightly. Yeah, it’s just ink
Why would Jon change the color? From the very beginning, all he used to write was black ink. Now this. It’s an ominous change but strangely enough, I don’t mind as much. Maybe he just didn’t have a black pen at the time? A large part of me doubts that based on how intricate Jon has been with everything else in this book.
At the top right corner of the page, right before the entry begins, there’s a drawing of an upside-down heart with wings attached to it. I feel like there’s way more to it than just a simple drawing.
“September 7th:
Dear Diary,
Today I saw an angel. She was my first car of the day. Black midsize luxury sedan. She ordered the full diamond package. Full wash, vacuumed interior, and wax. After she parked her car and got out, it was like a slow motion scene in a movie when the love interest is first revealed. Absolutely radiant. There I was in my scrub work uniform and there she is in a beautiful business suit. She smiled at me as she strutted by tossing me her car keys. The first and only name comes to my mind for her: Jane.”
So, Jon’s finally going to meet a girl! And it’s so cute how he’s describing his first encounter with her. I may be jumping to conclusions, but this may be why everything is written in red now. The different color might mean a new kind of diary that he’s writing. And I guess red was the only different color Jon was able to find.
Jon has already been through so much. I’m excited to see his life finally turning around. I wonder if this will be correlated to the events that are happening with Liz and Ethan.
Alright, John. Let’s do this! Let’s meet up with this girl, fall in love, get married, and finally be happy. Just like how my friends should be. Right, Jon? Of course, I’m right.
“September 8th:
Dear Diary,
Jane came around again this morning. I thought I was dreaming, but she was really there. It turns out that she forgot her phone in the station’s waiting room. This time, she was in her casual day off attire: short shorts and thin tee showing off her beautiful midriff. Her hair was down this time. I can’t even begin to describe how magnificent she looked. It was such a difference in look, but the same level of awe either way. The horrible part was, I had a chance to talk with her too! I had just come out from the restroom and there she was bent over the chairs looking around. I just stood there, frozen. She walked past me like I was a ghost. Like I was nothing. I’m in the back closet with this book right now, writing this all down in utter shame. Oh my God, she probably caught me staring! You don’t think I’m pathetic, do you? Of course, you do.”
A sudden flow of dejavu scratches the back of my head. Whoa, this is weird… Didn’t I just say-? Or think? Or… wait, what?! Why do I think I’ve read this before…? “Of course, you do! I just said that, Jon! Before I read what you wrote, I said that same thing!” I say aloud to the diary clenched in my hands.
I didn’t want to believe it, but the feeling of surprise and amazement doesn’t even come to me anymore. I close the book with my thumb stuck in between the pages marking where I am.
“So, it sounds like Jon has found his very own Aphrodite. The way he describes her is romantic yet at the same time a little overbearing.” I say out loud to myself as I move back into the living room and onto the sofa.
Cookie’s already laying on it as her head down. I was hoping my dog would respond by looking up at me. It’d make me feel like she’s listening. I stare at her furry belly as it goes up and down s
lowly. Stretching out my arm, my finger pokes her hind feet to get her attention. She quickly raises her head, but does not look at me. She jumps off the couch as quickly as she could as she goes around the sofa heading towards the door. A sound of keys can be faintly heard unlocking it.
With my heart pounding against my lungs, I scramble anxiously to get up and lunge myself into the bedroom. I frantically hurry the diary into the open nightstand, burying it underneath my other novels as I slam the cupboard door shut.
I return to the living room to see the person who has entered my house.
-Chapter 18-
“Demi!” My toes skitter across the wood tiles as I hurry towards my boyfriend. It feels like we’ve been apart for years. I throw myself on him wrapping my arms around his neck. The sheer impact causes Demi to lose balance and crumble back against the door behind him.
“Whoa whoa!” Demi exclaims with happy inflection.
We both laugh with Cookie rushing around us in utter excitement barking and whining.
I catch his lips on mine for a long kiss on the mouth. This sensation I missed the most. Gradually, we help each other up. “I’m sorry baby.” I say with a wide smile.
“You so are not.” Demi responds, picking up his shoulder bag and backpack smiling back at me.
“Nope!” I take the shoulder bag from him, turn and strut towards the bedroom. “I missed you, Mr. Regional Manager! How was work?”
“I missed you too! Honestly, it wasn’t so bad. Just a lot of paperwork and photographs we had to take documenting the claims.” He explains dropping his keys on the kitchen counter. “I heard about Liz and Ethan, just got off the phone with him.” I hear Demi say as I enter the room.
“Yeah, thank goodness they’re going to be alright!” I shout back so that he could hear me.
“He said they wouldn’t have tried the date if it wasn’t for your interventions!” I hear him shout back.
I set down his stuff on the carpet in front of the dresser underneath the monkey figurine as I glance over at the nightstand. “Uh, yeah. I may have had something to do with it…” my voice trails off in silence with my gaze locked at where the diary is hidden.
My eyes are caught in a stare again. I can hear the voices whispering from the cupboard. An eerie feel of a pulsating quake in the air was coming from the nightstand. I’m left with the helpless trance trying to pull me towards Jon.
“You okay, Mel?” Demi asks. This time he’s standing at the door of the bedroom
Startled, I jump a little and quickly turn towards him, breaking free from my frozen state. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m good.” I say trying to cover up my bit of panic.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” Demi says and rushes over to me.
I say nothing as my eyes sink downward.
Demi takes both of my hands into his. “Sweetie, you’re ice cold and you’re shaking.” He says as he looks at me with concern in his eyes.
Demi's right. What the hell is going on with me?! I feel more and more often lately, that I’m suddenly just losing control of myself.
“Listen, I know I haven’t been here for you since you’ve lost your job. I’m sure you’ve been through so much coping with such a transition. I’m so sorry, honey.” He says softly.
I love how sweet he is to me, but I have to say something before he starts growing any more concerned. “I… it's been a little hard trying to remind myself who I really am, you know?” I gradually force the words to pass my lips. Demi comes in for a big hug and I hold tight onto him as if for dear life. “But I’m glad you’re home safe.”
“Yeah. I’m glad you insisted we wait it out. I heard a bus of people got caught up in an avalanche trying to make it through the mountains.”
My eyes grow wide as I pull back a little to look at Demi's face.
Unbelievable. Jon’s entry led me to actually prevent disaster from Demi too. “I uh, I’m glad you listened to me, then.” I say with a half smile.
Demi laughs, and we hug again. “Yeah, that easily could have been us as well.”
The rest of the evening goes by in a fast blur. I was banking on the fact that Demi being home was going to make me feel better. I’m not sure why it hasn’t; maybe I’m just lost, or confused, or tired, or even depressed. I don’t know. It almost feels like something is unfinished or unresolved.
Dinner finishes fast. We head out to the nearest chicken place and share a basket of curly fries. Every other minute, my mind goes idle and into another daze. I’m sure Demi notices by now but thinks it's just me remembering my job as manager. For now, I’ll let him believe that. He won’t believe me otherwise.
The moment we get home, Demi collapses on the couch with the drowsiest look. The jet-lag must really be getting to him at this point. After I pull him up and drag him to the bedroom, he’s out like a light.
I can’t sleep though. I wander and pace around the whole house for what seems like an eternity. I look over every piece of furniture, and stare at every inch of the walls. But, for no reason at all. I’m anxious as hell right now! I feel like I could just jump out of my skin. The scene of Jon writing in his diary while huddled in the closet keeps burning its way into my thoughts. I have to know. I need to know what happens.
Does he eventually ask out Jane? Does she fall for him? Or maybe they never meet again, I don’t know. Should I even care this much? And more importantly, would it really have an influence with my reality again?
I finally decide to approach the bedroom. Carefully, my head creeps in to see if Demi is still asleep. The room is illuminated dimly from the small lamp on my nightstand. I can barely see Demi laying there on his side of the bed as still as can be, his chest calmly rising and falling. My attention quickly turns to the small cupboard door. No signs of whispering yet.
I decide to wait a couple minutes before finally stepping lightly into the room towards the side of my bed. Eventually I reach the nightstand. Carefully, I open the cupboard door and pull the diary from under the stack of novels. I hate the fact that my heart is pounding so heavily from just going through my own belongings.
I look back at Demi as I notice him shifting slightly but not enough to wake up at all. Quickly turning around, I hurry out to the living room as silently as I possibly could.
It’s now almost two in the morning. My adrenaline is hotter than I’ve ever remembered as I plop down on the edge of the sofa next to the end table. I reach over and flick on the switch under the bulb of the lamp that’s in it.
With a heavy rattling sigh, I peel the cover open to where my lace has marked my progress.
“September 13th:
Dear Diary,
Today my car decided to take a shit on me. I went out to start it and the damn battery is as dead as roadkill. I tried calling off work, but it turns out that another employee named Marc, had just called off minutes before I got the chance to. My manager said it was okay to get there a little late, so I just walked to work. But the day got so much better for me!
On the way there, I had time to notice something I never have before since I’d always cruise on by: there’s a restaurant that specializes in breakfast food. But this wasn’t some ordinary restaurant. Jane was there. Her and a couple of people were sitting at the window booth. I could see her there, clear as day! She was so magnificently dressed. Her hair was up in a manner that only the most trimmed professional could manage. The make up on her eyes was completely unnecessary for her natural beauty I saw the other day. was beyond uncanny. I must have stood there on the sidewalk for at least 15 minutes, or however long it took until Jane and her party had to go back to work.
After they left, I guess I snapped back to reality and realized my phone had been going off the whole time I was staring at my goddess. My boss had been trying to reach me, trying to see what was taking so long. After I arrived at work, I just fed him a lame excuse that I was missing my phone and it just took forever to find it. Of course, they didn’t care. And neither did I, for my own obvious reasons.”
> Jesus, Jon get a hold of yourself! It seems like you’re putting all your eggs in her basket. And that’s kind of on the creepy side, watching someone as they ate like that. I shake my head at the idea of Jon’s act of voyeurism. I’m hoping so badly that he just gets the chance and has the balls to eventually talk to her instead of a mangy old diary…
The warm glow of the lamp next to me helps me doze off on the sofa. I don’t remember nodding off. I guess I did shortly after finishing the entry. I wake up and the first thing my eyes see is the wall clock in the corner: 9:13 a.m.
I look around me to get my bearings realizing how late into the morning it is. After a few seconds, I look down and sudden shock quickly runs up my spine from something else I'm realizing. The diary isn’t here! Where did the diary go?!
I freeze as I quickly scan the floor around me. It was right here in my hands! Now it’s gone!
Out of impulse, I shout. “Demi! Are you home?”
No answer.
-Chapter 19-
“Of course, Demi's not going to be home, you idiot. He’s at work by now.” I mutter to myself with an annoyed tone.
Oh my God, he must’ve seen the diary! He was probably wondering what was keeping me out of bed all night as he saw me sitting under the lamp reading it.
He must’ve taken it! I scramble up from the sofa as I run into the bedroom. Demi had made the bed and used the shower recently, I can tell from the humidity coming from the bathroom.
Maybe he hid it somewhere. He's terrible at hiding things. I find his birthday and Christmas presents all the time. He's probably thinking I’m either some sort of maniac reading another man’s journal, or that I’m cheating on him, or something. I’m not even making sense in my train of thought anymore. I just need to find it!
Dammit! If the book was printed or typed, Demi would’ve left me alone when he saw. But Jon’s diary was completely handwritten, no doubt he had raised suspicions. He must’ve taken it and hid it away somewhere.