Weakly, I pulled myself onto the bed and grabbed the notebook. I sat on the edge of the bed and held it in my hands. It was warm and heavy, almost like it was alive. My hands were shaking as I opened the journal, scared of what I would find. I’ve been building walls and lying about my past to protect myself for as long as I could remember. Starting to read the journal once again, I felt that same strange sensation take hold of me. I felt the familiar tug on my body, like a lasso being wrapped around my waist, pulling me into another world.
Journal Entry Twenty Two
I was sitting in my study inside of my lovely little house. Holding a phone to my ear, Molly’s voice was speeding along on the other side. She was talking about her journeys, talking about how she was finally ready to come home, settle down and start a new life. Again, I was shocked at how surreal all of this was. I faintly remember this happening though it was only a week ago.
She was finally done with what she called, finding herself. Molly was telling me she didn’t need help getting her plane tickets home. It seemed like a normal conversation but I felt irked, like she was a bit distant from me. She never had a problem with me paying all of her expenses and she really didn’t have a problem asking me for money. I had no attachment to money, I didn’t want it or need it. I would be happy with a small boxed in apartment living off of canned beans as long as I could write and drink. Molly was one of the only people in my life I cared about and giving those people money made no difference to me. She was the only person who gladly accepted the money and didn’t make a big deal out of paying me back. But truth be told I would give her every dime if she asked for it.
I was eager to see her in person again. We hadn’t seen each other since we graduated college. Of course we had been talking constantly and she was always writing me those amazing hand-written letters but she never came back home to visit. As I sat in my leather lounge chair I quivered with excitement. Not only had I just finished my fourth best-selling novel but Molly was coming home! She told me that she had so much to tell me about her adventures. Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly she teased me with a surprise announcement. It was strange hearing her so excited and happy like this.
My heart fluttered in my chest, I felt like I knew what the surprise was. I didn’t want to get my hopes up or assume anything but I couldn’t help myself. “Molly, you have to let me throw you a party for when you come back to the states! I’ll invite our friends from college and we can go to my vacation home.”
I could hear her hesitating, sensing it. That made me feel so uncomfortable. It made me feel exactly like when I tried to kiss her at that party. Finally she answered, “Sure Zac, that sounds great. I can’t wait to see everyone again. It will be way easier for me to tell everyone the big surprise all at once.”
There was an awkward silence after that. I wondered what her surprise was. A million times I fantasized about her telling me she loved me while jumping dramatically in my arms as I met her at the airport. “What time do you need me to pick you up Molls?” I asked eagerly.
I heard her laughing on the other end of the phone as she muttered quietly to someone else, “No Isaac, don’t worry about it. I’ll just meet you at the party. Just text me the date and address and I’ll see you then!” Again she sounded disconnected and awkward.
“Well, okay. I’ll see you then I guess.” There was another long silence, followed by her laughing in the background.
“I can’t wait to see you Zac, but I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late to my dinner reservation.” She shifted around, laughed playfully and the connection ended. I was sitting in my chair, looking around the room, at how alone I was. At how empty I was. I felt so disconnected from her now. She felt different and more independent but I’m sure it’s because she was busy. The moment she would come to the party and started to chat with me, everything would go back to normal again.
I felt heavy with how lonely I was in my dark little room. Even though I was excited for her return, it felt so far away. Why couldn’t it be right now? I wanted to see her so bad. Looking around the muted room, my heart was racing. The only thing I could do to distract myself was to plan the party. I snatched up my phone, pulled out my address book and started searching for people to invite. Trying not to obsess over her big announcement, my brain however kept conjuring ridiculous, grandiose scenarios. All of these fantasies ended up in us together or her taking me around the world. She would show me everything from her travels and we would live out our days happily together. I tried so hard not to work myself up. My exaggerated delusions of her teased revelation wouldn’t be as fantastical as I romanticized.
I started to dial the first number on my list of close friends from college and I felt the tug around my torso. It was stronger this time, like my body was torn and twisted. My head whipped back, the room around me zoomed out of sight and I painfully landed onto a cold, tiled floor. The palms of my hands pinpricked with pain. I winced from the burning ache in my knees as I stood up. Looking around the lobby, I sighed when I realized the journal had brought me to the vacation home I inherited. Soft music was echoing around the room. This place was so haunting. I was completely alone and the house around me seemed to be completely still.
Journal Entry Twenty Three
I looked down at the red cup on the floor, foamy beer was dribbling everywhere. I was drunk and no one was here. Why wasn’t anyone here? Why wasn’t Molly here? Feverish thoughts of doubt jetted anxiety through my veins as I paced around the lobby. I spent an entire week procuring alcohol and other intoxicants. And I cleaned the entirety of the mansion with my own hands, preparing every room with care. Buying tons of food, I even prepared most of the hors d'oeuvres myself. I made sure everything was in place and perfect, hoping to make a weekend out of this little party. Yet still I glared at my watch, noting that it was already 10:00pm. “Everyone was supposed to be here an hour and a half ago,” I complained while cleaning up the nasty, flat beer from the tile. “This is so pathetic, I should have known this was going to happen,” I said, soon eating my words as the doorbell rang.
I clumsily slipped on the slick floor running to my first guest, begging for it to be Molly. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my twisted jacket and gently opened the door. The door glided open and I forced a fake smile on my face when I saw my old acquaintance, Senter. He was tall blond and fit. “Long time no see man!” He said a little too loudly, hugging me before I could even react. He had been a law major back when we were in college and by the looks of his car, money was the last of his problems. “Well, are you going to show me where the drinks are? I’m dying of thirst!” He proclaimed even louder as he let himself in and walked towards the living room before I could show him the way. Senter had been like this ever since Molly introduced us. He always just kind of did whatever he wanted. He was brought up like me, wealthy and unapologetically so. But unlike me, he grew up with that aura of selfishness and entitlement.
Another hour or so went by and most of my guests were lounging in the houses' main kitchen, making small talk. The first to arrive after Senter were Vince and Rosanna who were both well-known writers like myself. Vince was the oldest of us all. He was six-feet tall, black and had once been a wall of muscle. Now he was a balding, chubby, tired looking piece of furniture. He and I had met in college, he had been in several of my English classes. Most of the kids my age avoided him like he was some kind of leper. I figured it was because he was so much older than us but later I found out he used to be a cop. Apparently after having a few kids with his ex-wife he quit the force and decided to go back to college. It couldn’t have been because he needed the money since he chose to become a writer. Unlucky for him, when he was a semester away from graduating his wife left him. If I remember correctly she found somebody who had a little more zeros attached to the end in their bank account.
Vince was completely miserable until he published his first of many books. He made out like a bandit after writing a very popular series of crime novels
. Rosanna was a petite thirty something who met Vince through me and some other writers. Most of us used to get together at conventions or dinner parties so we could network and brown nose. Most of the time we were sucking up to critics, publishers and anyone else that could get our foot farther into the door. Honestly, Rosanna and Vince’s relationship confused me. They seemed almost platonic around each other and barely spoke in public. They were complete opposites. Vince wrote violent crime novels and Rosanna, at one time, had been a journalist for Greenpeace. She eventually quit her job to write informative, anti-violence and pro-environment novels. Opposites attract, I guessed.
Then there was Josie and Hanna, the youngest of us all. They were on the cusp of turning thirty and were freshly married. They had that annoying energy of success and love. Hannah was pale like white marble with strawberry blonde hair. She dressed like a punk but spoke with a vocabulary that would give any English professor a sticky, wet dream. Josie was a work of art, with her long legs, multi-ethnic skin and sapphire eyes. She had a husky voice and a sense of humor that could keep a party going for days. Thankfully, that included this one. To this day I have no idea how either of them met, they’ve just always been Hanna and Josie.
Molly and I met Josie and Hanna when we took a few art classes to finish off some elective credits. They were popular, even back then. They were the type of people who came into this world knowing exactly what to do and how to do it, successfully. Both of them only lasted a few semesters in college and dropped out when they realized going to school for art was pointless. They figured the internet could help them with anything they wanted to learn. Naturally, not even a year later their collaborative paintings were in galleries across the US. Now, money was the last thing they had to worry about.
Even though the party commenced, I was so preoccupied with Molly’s return that I was neglecting my guests, slightly hidden in the shadows of the hallway that lead out of the kitchen. I was watching everyone as they mingled, smiling at each other’s jokes and stories; I couldn’t tell if they were all being sincere to one another or if they were actually amused. One thing was for sure though, what Hanna and Josie had was completely genuine. Staring at them, I wanted to have what they had. Even the day I met them, I couldn’t help but be envious. I hoped Molly and I could have that someday. My jealousy started to bubble up but then I was distracted as Amy and James made their way into the kitchen.
“Hey Isaac, sorry, we let ourselves in. We were knocking on the door but nobody answered,” Amy said with a blushing smile.
Senter greeted them with ear-stabbing excitement. Amy, James and I all winced at the same time as I led them into the kitchen. “Well, I’m sure it wasn’t hard to hear where we were,” I said sarcastically with a smirking smile. Amy giggled and James smiled robotically. “Well, you guys go ahead and get comfortable. Drinks are on the bar and on the table next to the bay windows.” I guided them after giving Amy a hug and James an awkward, clammy handshake.
Just like Josie, Hanna, Vince, Senter and Molly, I met Amy and James in college. Amy was the only other person I got along with besides Molly. She was about five-feet tall, maybe even shorter. She was a natural brunette but it was dyed blood-red. Her brother James wasn’t very tall either, for a guy that is. He had the same hair color as Amy minus the cheap dye. It was long, shiny and pulled into a ponytail.
James and Amy were inseparable. Their life was a story pulled from straight from the Grimm Fairytales. They were orphaned at a young age and abused as they passed from foster home to foster home. As soon as James turned eighteen he piggybacked three jobs and supported Amy in a small shabby place of their own. Auspiciously they were both brilliant enough to earn a free ride in college, where I had met them. Soon after we met I started dating Amy but only for a short time. We were doomed to fail from the start though. I was raised in a wealthy family and she was barely scrapping at the bottom. Unintentionally I was always embarrassing her, making her feel uncomfortable by purchasing her expensive gifts. The truth is that I was trying to give her and James a better life with the money I hated.
I wanted to get rid of the money and was shocked when they didn’t take it. My guess was that people who have never been poor could never understand the pride in making the money on their own. In the end however, James was the real problem. He was obsessively controlling of Amy's every move. Always there, we could never have any intimate moments. Not to mention she told him every detail about our relationship. Even my private past and morally ambiguous thoughts on life, which made James trust me even less. Inevitably we broke up, soon after I met Molly, and our relationship faded away.
Amy went on to become a biologist. She works for an independent contractor where she is trying to create a new fuel source using algae. James is a concert violinist and still lives with his sister. I don’t think either of them have dated since Amy and I. They look happy though, very actually. Amy turned and smiled at me, like she had a secret and then looked back at Josie who was telling some story. I stared at Amy for a bit longer and remembered why I wrote her out of my life. There was a reason why I banished our relationship from my own personal history. Even though we had imploded, it was still with passion. I was afraid that if we stayed in each other’s life, Molly wouldn’t matter to me as much as she does. A part of me thinks it was just another way for me to screw myself over. It is merely another way to turn me into a blubbering martyr who couldn’t survive without my self-loathing, pining.
I took a step back and just watched everyone at a distance. It was something I loved to do almost as much as people watching. I wanted to look back on the tiny invisible threads that connected all of us together. And I realized that I didn’t particularly feel close to anyone here. Yes, Amy and I had a combination of history and chemistry but in the end she wasn’t a part of my life. The only thing I really had in common with these people was Molly and the fact that we were all misfits. We were all strange, unwanted characters who didn’t fit into the normal world. Sure, most of us were at least semi-successful but even in our professional circles we were outcasts. Really, the only 'normal' person here was Senter. Besides being rude and obnoxious he was painfully average. I guessed in some way Senter he was the outcast among the outcasts. Thinking about it, he was really only here because of Molly; I wouldn’t have invited him otherwise. He was one of the meat-heads that she liked to hang out with. I figured however that if she saw something in him, if she could enjoy his company, then that’s all that mattered. This party wasn’t for me after all, it was for her.
I watched as Senter took five shots of Columbian rum in less than three seconds. Even though I thought of him as a rutting man child but he did know how to party. Smiling, I made my move to join the party. I figured that I could at least attempt to have fun so the night wouldn’t be a complete waste. And I certainly had a thing or two to show him about drinking. Calling out his name, I slowly walked into the kitchen.
As I passed through the threshold, out of the hallway and into the kitchen, time slowed down. Everyone looked towards me with emotionless blank faces. The music went quiet and my ears filled with pressure. The doorbell rang and my heart jumped into my throat. She was here. Molly was here. She was finally here. I saw Senter mouth something but it was muffled. I turned around and the front door was instantly in front of me. It was like the entire walk from the kitchen to the lobby was erased from my memory. All that mattered was the person behind the door. The bell chimed one more time. My hand slowly went for the doorknob. My heart was racing and as soon as my fingertips touched the cold, brass knob I felt that unseen tug of the invisible lasso.
Journal Entry Twenty Four
The lobby of the hellish house zoomed away as I was wrenched from the past. “No! No!” I screamed into the blurry whirlwind. Everything around me was Topsy-turvy; I couldn’t tell up from down and the air around me felt sharp. Abruptly I was thrown against my old oak desk. Pain shot down my back and my right arm as I rolled over the sturdy desk. The pain didn’t
matter however, I wanted to go back. Molly was right behind that door! I remembered greeting her at the door but after that it all went blurry. Finally I was remembering everything. All of the questions I’ve been begging for,I was finally getting the answers to. The problem was, it didn’t feel real. I frantically pulled myself over the desk and searched the bedroom for the journal. I wasn’t done with it yet. I had to know. I needed to know every memory it held within. I almost had the facts from the past few days. The journal was shattering all of the lies I made to protect myself and I wanted to know it all.
I looked to the floor and saw the journal lying there, its pages splayed open. It hadn't been there when I was searching the room, I swear to it. Perhaps it must have fallen there when I rolled off the desk? I walked over to it and my back tightened with pain as I bent down to pick it up. “Do you really want to do that Isaac?” I froze in place, eyes wide open as I listened to his dark, velvet voice. Standing up very slowly, he shifted quietly from behind me. “Don’t you dare turn around, Isaac,” He threatened, pronouncing every syllable carefully.
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