Julia Jones - The Teenage Years: Book 1- Falling Apart - A book for teenage girls
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Julia Jones
The Teenage Years
Book 1
Falling Apart
Katrina Kahler
Copyright 2014 by KC Global Enterprises
Julia Jones is a typical teenage girl. She wants to fit in, have friends, be loved and happy. As you follow her journey, think about the choices she is making. Think about how you would act in the same situations and challenges.
Table of Contents
Frightened…
One month earlier…
Changes…
The return…
Doubts…
First day back…
Something is not right…
Embarrassment…
Dad, where are you?
Fear…
Decisions…
The party…
Unexpected…
Guilt…
Frightened…
I stared in horror at what confronted me. The likeness was uncanny. It had the same long, brown hair and hazel eyes as my own, but the ghoulish grin was hideous. Numb with shock, I stood there, my mind reeling with confusion and panic. It took every last reserve of self-control, to contain the frightened screams that I felt bubbling inside. My mouth agape, I could not take my eyes from the ugly figure that had been shoved into the back of my locker.
It was a child’s toy, a remnant from a long forgotten doll collection, but it had been remodeled to resemble me. A scattering of light freckles had been dotted across the nose and cheeks, probably with a permanent marker. In addition, a dirty brown stain had been drawn on the side of one leg and I glanced down at the birthmark that covered the inside of my own thigh, the mark I’d been tormented about from a young age.
That hideous smile, the evil smirk that was painted on, made my skin crawl. But the most disturbing and horrific detail was the fact that there were three long, thick sewing needles protruding grotesquely from the torso and two more had been thrust brutally into each side of the head.
With a gasp of realization, the words ‘voodoo doll,’ entered my mind. I had read somewhere that African tribes had once used this type of witchcraft to cast spells on village members. In many cases, the victims became violently ill, and sometimes the effect was so intense that people actually died.
Then, without warning, everything went black.
One month earlier…
This couldn’t be happening! This sort of thing happened to other people, not me!
White faced, I stared at my dad.
“Are you for real?” I thought to myself. “One week before Christmas and you drop this bombshell on our family!”
Speechless, I glared at him, my eyes turning dark with anger. My mother used to tease me about the color of my eyes when I was younger. “Black-eyed Suzie,” she used to call me. According to her, that was the color my eyes turned whenever I was angry. But I hated her taunting. I hated that expression and it just made me angrier to hear her using it. That would only encourage her to tease me further. I used to really hate my mother for that!
But now it was my dad who had to bear the brunt of my evil look.
Seriously, how could he do this to us?
Without a word, I ran to the sanctuary of my bedroom and slammed the door shut. Throwing myself down on the bed, I grabbed hold of the tattered and worn teddy bear that still sat forlornly propped up on my pillow, the one remaining stuffed toy that I would always keep. And I broke down into a heart-wrenching sob.
My world as I knew it was ending. It was a nightmare I wanted to wake up from and never experience again. But I knew that was impossible.
At that moment, I just wanted to disappear.
Changes…
As I lay there, my pillow drenched with tears, I stared longingly out the window. My mom had tried comforting me, but I just wanted to be left alone. Nothing she could say would help.
It just wasn’t fair! Surely there was another solution. I knew that my parents had money problems, especially after Dad lost his job. I’d overheard them whispering several times during the past few weeks, and then they’d cast guilty glances my way as soon as they realized I was within earshot.
“What’s going on?” I’d asked, curiously.
But my mother’s reply was always the same. “Oh, nothing darling. Nothing for you to worry about!”
I can’t believe they’d kept it from me. And then right before Christmas, Dad decided to break the news.
“We have to move back to the city. I start my new job in two weeks’ time.”
My life as I’d come to know it, would not exist anymore. It was bad enough that I’d had to sell my beautiful pony.
“We just can’t afford to keep her here any longer,” Dad had tried to explain.
That was three months ago and I was still aching with misery at the loss of my beloved friend. That’s what she had become, the one constant figure of trust in my life. The one on whose friendship and loyalty I could always rely. And then, in the blink of an eye, she’d been whisked away.
The memory of the horse trailer driving down our driveway and out through the old wooden gate, would haunt me forever. And in my dreams, I could still hear her whinny, her morning call when I would rush out to the stables to greet her. Her warm breath nuzzled my hand as she looked for the regular treats that I always had ready. She had been the light of my life but just like a candle in the wind, that light had been extinguished with one quick puff and was now gone forever.
A sudden cold draught burst through my open window and I jumped out of bed to close it. The temperature had been unseasonably warm for that time of year, and I had opened my window earlier in the day to welcome the rays of sunshine that danced on the patterned rug beside my bed.
As I stared out onto the grassy fields of our twenty hectare property, my heart filled with sadness. There would be no more horse riding, no more hanging out in the stables with friends and no more living in what I had come to call my home.
We had moved there, three years earlier, leaving behind our family home which was situated in the township of another state, over a thousand miles away. It could have been on another planet, the distance was so great. Once again, it was Dad’s job that had forced us to be uprooted from everything that was familiar. I recalled the vivid memory of being told I had to be separated from everything I knew and loved; my home, my school, my friends. And it was my two best friends, Millie and Blake, who I had found it hardest to say goodbye to. I remembered how distraught I had been at the thought of not being able to see them each day. Millie was my closest friend ever and Blake… he was my one true love.
That was how I had felt back then. But with the passing of time, our friendship had gradually been reduced to an occasional phone call at Christmas and birthdays. It was then that I realized Millie’s birthday had just recently passed by and I had completely forgotten about it.
Glancing towards the myriad of photo frames that adorned my bookcase, I spotted photos of Millie and I, so happy and totally inseparable; BFFs was what we had once called ourselves. Then another image caught my eye. I reached for the photo that sat towards the back of the shelf, the one that was covered in dust. His handsome face stared back at me. The beautiful warm smile that had once made my heart melt, still managed to create a small, familiar flutter in the pit of my stomach.
I remembered the devastation I had felt at being separated from the boy I loved. He was my soul mate, the one to whom I could tell anything, even my deepest darkest secrets. We’d promised that the distance would not kee
p us apart, but over time, life had just seemed to get in the way. And according to Millie when we last spoke, Blake had started going out with someone else.
To return to that old life was not something I had ever expected to happen and I knew that it could never be the same.
A gut wrenching fear abruptly took hold and I shivered with apprehension about what lay ahead.
“I’m not moving!” I screamed loudly. “You can’t make me move again!”
With frustration and anger, I thrust the photo frame I was holding at the closed door, the glass shattering into pieces all over the floor. Through tear filled eyes, I glared angrily down at the image of Blake’s smiling face, staring happily back up at me.
Then, feeling totally distraught and completely overwhelmed, I burst into uncontrollable wracking sobs.
The return…
When our car pulled up at the driveway of our old house, the one from my past life, I stared from the window in disbelief. The sick feeling that had wormed its way into the depths of my being felt ready to erupt. I had hardly spoken a word over the past weeks. My mother’s anxious looks, followed by her desperate attempts to console me had been of no use.
Miraculously, Dad had found a buyer for our country property almost straight away, and we’d had to pack and move as quickly as possible. I hadn’t even had a chance to return to school after the Christmas break to say goodbye to everyone, and it was only my closest friends who I’d bothered to call.
It was all just too heart breaking to even think