September 15, 1984
To the person invading my privacy:
I cannot believe the distrust I feel in my family and friends. I know for a fact that my diary was taken and read by someone, maybe several someones. I will not be writing any more in this diary for a long time, if ever. You have ruined my trust and my feeling of security. I hate you for that, whoever you are!
On these pages I have written things sometimes too scary or too embarrassing even to read again myself... I trust that these pages are turned only by me, only when I wish. Many things are hurting and confusing me. I need my private pages, in order to see my mind outside me, push it away.
Please stay away from this diary.
I mean it.
Laura
October 3, 1985
Dear Diary,
I have decided, over twelve months later, to begin speaking to you again. I have found a hiding place I will not speak of, in case you are found outside it and someone nosy wishes to know of its whereabouts.
I know it was not your fault someone found you and decided to pry, but it has taken me a long time to feel safe enough to write in your pages again. Many, many things have happened since you last heard from me, and many of these things have proven that my thoughts on the world's being mostly a cruel and sad place are true and have been confirmed as such.
I trust no one, and only rarely myself. I struggle most mornings, afternoons, and evenings with what is right and what is wrong. I do not understand if I am being punished for something I have done wrong, something I don't remember, or if this happens to everyone, and I am just too stupid to understand it.
First of all, I found out that Dad did not give Troy to me. Benjamin Horne did. The details are not important, but let's just say I overheard Audrey arguing with her dad about it, when I was up at the Great Northern visiting Johnny. Johnny is Audrey's brother, Benjamin's other child. Johnny is slow. He is older than I am, but has the mentality of a young child. That's what the doctors say at least.
Sometimes I think he's just chosen to keep quiet because it is so much more interesting sometimes to just listen to people instead of talking to them. He never speaks except to say "Yes" or "Indian." He loves Indians. He wears a headdress constantly. One made of beautifully colored feathers and died strips of leather. In his eyes the world is a strange mix of happiness and pain, and I think I understand Johnny more than I do a lot of other people. Perhaps I could find a way to spend more time with him. He is so often left alone.
I am glad that Troy is my pony, and I love riding him, walking with him, and just watching him graze. But now I feel awkward about Dad. Like he is less of an honest man for claiming that Troy was a gift from him. Maybe Benjamin wanted it that way, I don't know. But no matter what, I am somehow more intrigued by Benjamin now and feel like I owe him more than Dad. Sometimes I think that I would rather not have gotten a pony of my own at all, because that way I wouldn't have lost any respect for Dad, and Benjamin would just have been Benjamin. Even worse, Audrey and I will probably never ever get along now. I am a little sick inside that I am the one who caused this. Also it gives me a feeling of power. Why do these things happen to me?
You know, I think out of all of the men I know in the world, Dr. Hayward has been the most loving to me. He is unselfish, kind, and always shows me a gentle smile of inspiration or forgiveness -or anything that somehow always perfectly fills the gap I feel inside me. Thirteen years ago, he brought me into the world and held tight to my small body, for just a moment. In daydreams, I imagine that moment to be one of the warmest there ever was in my life. I love him for holding me, that frightened young child fresh to the air and light, and for making me believe, without even a word, that he would hold me again if I ever needed him to.
He reminds me of someone I wouldn't mind seeing every day of my life. A grandfather sweetness, inside a father's helping hand.
I'll be back after dinner. There is plenty of more news.
Love, Laura
October 3, 1985, later
Dear Diary,
Dinner was good tonight. One of my favorite meals, potato pancakes with creamed-corn topping and vegetables on the side. I'll have to start changing the way I eat soon, or run the risk of blowing up like a balloon. Mom made it special for me tonight because she knows I'm still upset about Jupiter. She and Dad ate chicken instead.
Jupiter is the other news. Usually he'll go out back and play in the yard area. It isn't fenced in, but he never wandered. I guess he was too smart to leave a home that loved him so much and fed him so well. Even though I didn't write to you often of him, he was one of the most special things in the world to me, always sweet and gentle. Always loved me no matter what I looked like or what I had done wrong or right for the day.
Often, on nights that I could not sleep, the two of us would play downstairs with a ball of string, to only the light of the tiny wall lamp. We would enjoy ice cream in the kitchen afterward. He was a true vanilla fan. It would be dark in the house, and the two of us prowled together until sleep found us, hours after we had given up on getting any at all. I still have a photo Dad took of Jupiter and me on the living room couch after one of these nights. We hadn't made it back upstairs to sleep and had fallen asleep on the couch instead.
I gave the photo of Jupiter to Sheriff Truman so that he could post it in the station. I hope they find whoever hit Jupiter. I know it was probably an accident, because a few minutes before it happened, he had found a small mouse or something... I hadn't paid much attention, but he raced off with it and was hit out on the road. Mom heard the noise and called for me to stay where I was until she knew what had happened. But sometimes Mom and I think the same thoughts, have the same dreams, and she knows better than to think I'd stay in my room when I knew. So I didn't listen and went out to see him, still breathing for a few moments afterward, and bleeding from his eyes and tummy.
I can't believe someone could hit a cat like that, right in the middle of the day, and not tell someone. Not think to stop and come to the closest house and report what had happened. Mom heard the car screech, and Dad says he wishes he had been home because he might have been able to tell what kind of car it was that hit him, just by the sound. I doubt it, but it was a nice thought.
He's buried outside now. A good friend gone, when I so cherish the few I have. I wish something else would have died instead of Jupiter.
To be honest with you, as I always am, many people in Twin Peaks like me. Lots know my name, and especially at school I feel quite popular. The only problem is that I don't really know any of these people the way they think they know me. And I think I am safe in saying, they don't know me at all. Donna knows the most.
But still I am afraid to tell her of my fantasies and my nightmares, because sometimes she is good at understanding, and other times she just giggles, and I don't have the nerve to ask why things like that are funny to her. So I feel badly again and shut up about it for a long time. I love Donna very much, but sometimes I worry that she wouldn't be around me at all if she knew what my insides were like. Black and dark, and soaked with dreams of big, big men and different ways they might hold me and take me into their control. A fairy princess who thinks she has been rescued from the tower, but finds that the man who takes her away is not there to save her, but instead to go inside her, deep. To ride her as if she were an animal, to tease her and make her close her eyes, and listen as he tells her all that he does. Step by step. I hope that is not a bad thing to think.
Love, Laura
October 12, 1985
Dear Diary,
I tried a marijuana cigarette the other night. Donna and I had a sleepover at her place, but her parents went out for the night with mine to the Great Northern for a party Benjamin was throwing. Donna and I didn't really want to go, and I especially didn't because of Audrey. I talked Donna into riding our bikes up to the Book House to meet some new people. It took me forever to convince her I wouldn't tell anyone, and that we would be back before ou
r parents. Finally she agreed because both of us have been terribly bored with all the same faces around all the time.
We were barely there a half hour before these guys, Josh and Tim, and one other one, but I can't remember his name, came up to us. I was smoking a cigarette that I stole from the reception desk at the Great Northern one day when I brought Johnny an Indian storybook.
They thought we were older because one of us was smoking. So Josh came up with Tim and the other guy. They said they were from Canada, and there was no doubt about that because they couldn't stop saying "ay". "Want a better cigarette, ay?" Tim liked Donna right away, which freaked her out a little because all three of them were like twenty years old. None of them rocked my boat. They all looked like nice guys. I felt pretty safe, but not excited... you know what I mean?
Anyway, I said I wanted to try a better cigarette, and Donna and I followed them out to the back of the Book House to do it. Donna made up this elaborate story about how we were just visiting Twin Peaks for the night, and that we had to meet our tour bus in less than an hour. She said we were on a tour called Round About the Woods. I guess they believed her because they hurried up and lit this thing right up. Josh said we might not feel it the first time, but Donna and I proved him wrong. He said we had to "Hold it in, ay?" And we did... six times! Diary, it was amazing. Talk about feeling relaxed and warm and a little bit... sexy.
I called Donna "Trisha," and she called me "Bernice"! (Just in case they ever came back and asked for us... for any reason. We didn't want anyone to know.) So, we were absolutely laughing harder than I ever have before. Every single thing I saw was hysterical. Everything was blurred and kinda wavy, like I was looking at the world through the bottom of an empty water glass. There was a warm, summer wind, and the trees smelled so good.
Tim brought us a cup of coffee with chocolate mixed in, and all five of us sat and talked about all sorts of things, like if maybe our universe was just a tiny little speck of lint that a huge giant hadn't noticed on his sweater, and someday soon, who knows if this great giant would just brush us off, or toss us into a washer and drown us all to death. Donna said maybe our idea of hundreds of years is only a split second to this giant, and soon something would have to happen, because how long can someone keep a sweater on?
We all liked the idea that there might be other little universes or "balls of lint" on this sweater, and we thought we'd someday like to meet a few people from these other places, as long as they were nice to us. We could hear a little bit of music coming out of the Road House, and I just had to get up and dance a little. I felt better than I had in ages, just floating in the night air and feeling warm inside.
Donna even danced with me for a few minutes until she realized we had to go meet... OUR TOUR BUS! We had to lie and say we rented the bikes from the lost-and-found at the sheriff's station, but I don't think the guys bought that story at all. They were nice not to say anything to us about it, if they did know. Maybe it added excitement to their night, too. Then again, maybe not, because they're older and have probably had much more exciting nights than that.
When we were riding home, we kept having to stop because we had such giggles. Then I got the most outrageous craving for cookies and milk, like I'd die if I didn't have any, and Donna agreed a hundred percent that we had to have something sweet. She said there was pie at her house, but that didn't seem right. So we emptied our pockets and went into the Cash and Carry for treats. We bought so much junk that we had to walk our bikes back to Donna's house so that we could each hold a bag. All the way home we were paranoid just like the guys said we would be because our eyes were all bloodshot and we wanted to get home before our parents did.
We totally lucked out because just when we got into the house, Dr. Hayward called and said they were going to be a bit longer because Benjamin was showing slides or something. Thank God! We ran upstairs and put eye drops in our eyes, then turned on the stereo and ate and danced and laughed, and we were totally sound asleep when everyone got back.
I know drugs are bad, but I'm beginning to get the feeling I like being that way. Kind of bad.
More tomorrow, Laura
October 20, 1985
Dear Diary,
It is a little over one week later and I have more news. Sorry I haven't written, but it has really been kind of crazy around here... well, here inside me, at least. Home is just the same. Irritating more than anything else. God, I feel so trapped sometimes, like I have to wear this permanent grin on my face or else everyone freaks out on me.
I wonder if pain, the kind that doesn't just happen when your cat is killed, or when an aunt dies, but the kind that you have to live with... can it ever be a friend? Pain as a shadow or companion. I wonder if that's possible...
Anyway, the news is strange. I'm a little nervous about how much I've enjoyed the danger of it all, but I'll tell you everything and get it off my chest. Maybe it will be like my dreams, less difficult to understand if I see it on paper. Here goes.
Last Friday night, the day before yesterday, Donna and I went back to the Book House at about four in the afternoon. I guess we went back hoping Josh and Tim and their friend would be there again, and we could get high on another funny cigarette. We got sort of dressed up, not too dressy or crazy because we do know everyone in town practically and we didn't want it to get back to our parents. But we had on skirts that were pretty short and a little tighter than most people would approve of, except boys, of course, and we played with some makeup that Donna's mom, Mrs. Hayward, had given her as an Easter present because Donna wanted to try some and her mom wanted her to have her own.
Anyway, again! We got to the Book House and no one except Big Jake Morrissey was there. He's the guy who runs the place. I guess I should tell you about it so you can imagine where I was. It is a coffee house, mostly for guys-girls are allowed-but it's more like a guys' hangout. There are books everywhere on the tables and shelves, which linked all three walls, all the way to the back. It smells like cigarettes, after-shave, and coffee. There's always coffee brewing. And this time I was inside, I noticed a picture of the man perfect for my fantasies! I didn't say anything, of course, but he's just perfect. Rough and tough, but has puppy-dog eyes and soft skin.
The picture is of him in jeans and a leather jacket, holding a book and sitting on his motorcycle, reading. I am in love! So we were the only ones in the place, and Jake gave us coffee and said that people would be coming in soon, and it might be wise if we left when they started to come in, especially dressed like we were. He was half joking, half serious when he asked us, "Are you girls looking for trouble of a boy nature?"
Donna turned all red, and I just told him what I would tell Mom or Dad if they ever found out. "We're just playing around and pretending. It's just for fun, not for trouble." He understood, or "bought it," rather, and after we finished our coffee we left. On the way out though, I told Jake that about a week ago, three really nice Canadian boys had been there and had helped Donna and I fix our flat tires after we had run over the broken beer-bottle glass that's always out in front of the Road House. I told him that if he saw them-Josh, Tim, and another guy with blond hair-that he should tell them we wanted to thank them with a cup of coffee, or something. Then I told him we'd probably be out back, just talking, if they showed up. Jake said he'd relay the message if they came in.
You guessed it! They showed up. Jake must have told them what I said because they came out laughing and giving us a hard time for lying to them before. Donna was pretty quick and smart to say that "we wanted to make sure that you guys were cool before we told you who we were or anything."
They all said we looked really nice, and I found out the third guy's name was Rick, and all of them are twenty-two! We said our age wasn't important and wouldn't stop any of us from having fun as long as we were home by ten. If it was going to be later, we would have to call. Josh said he had some alcohol, and if there was a place we knew of to build a small fire or something out in the woods, we coul
d all go out there and have a little party. By this time it was about five-thirty or so.
They were in a truck this time instead of on bikes, and so Donna and I got in the open back and told them to cross Lucky Highway 21 and head into the woods behind Low Town. We both figured it would be safer there, and if anything happened, I could just say that I had gotten lost with Donna, that we had taken a walk or something and lost track of where we were. It would be okay, I figured, no matter what. These guys seemed nice enough, so we trusted them a second time.
We got to a place where there was a stream and hardly any needles on the ground, so the fire would be a safe idea. Tim and Rick looked for kindling while Josh opened up this bottle of... I guess it was gin that he had. The only alcohol Donna and I had ever had was a glass of champagne-one glass, at Dr. Hayward's birthday party last year. This was brand-new to both of us. Donna seemed excited, but nervous, too. I was just plain excited and was the first to drink a sip of it after Josh. We just passed it around... until it was empty.
Donna and I were really messed up almost instantly. Rick kept saying, "They're toasted, man."
Both Donna and I had to pee, so we went away from the fire about thirty feet and crouched down behind a tree. For a moment there, we were both scared. Real scared. We didn't know how to act, and both of us kept thinking we were saying stupid things or sounding too young or something.
When I stood up, my head got light. I thought to myself, "It's too late now, you're already drunk, you better just enjoy it, and don't forget to keep watching the time!" Donna agreed that we had just better go with the flow and stick close together in case we got scared again.
Tim turned on the truck stereo, and I asked if it would be stupid if I danced around for a while, 'cause I liked the song. All three said it was okay, and Donna just sat there staring at the fire for a while. Tim went and sat really close to her and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes got real big and she kinda laughed and then relaxed. I guess he made her feel good or pretty or something. I'll have to remember to ask her what he whispered to her. So I was dancing, and Josh and Rick couldn't stop watching me... and I was feeling pretty comfortable, or confident, or both, but I just went a little bit crazy and got into a sexier dance. One that I practiced alone in my room in front of the mirror. I moved my hips around in circles and let my arms move slow, and sometimes I touched my hips like it felt good to me to touch myself.
The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer Page 3