ticklmeamy's Journal

Nov 2006
7:50 AM PDT

Chapter One If the world were to end today, I don’t think I’d care. Nothing in my life matters right now, but I wish something did. I have a broken family and friends that are never there. They might as well just be imaginary. There is one person though. A boy. He has a name, but do names really matter. His shaggy, brown hair covers his eyes as he smiles at me from across the French classroom. The bell rings in five, four, three, two, one. The day is over. I walk past him on the way out and he stops me. "Hey Daisy." The words travel out his mouth in slow motion. I have a headache and can't comprehend what he just said. I mumble something about being late for violin if I stay and chat, so I head out the door, forgetting to tell him good bye. I step on the city bus and head toward the back. It is crowded, but I see a seat in the corner. I just want to sit. I don't know where I'm headed. Home. I can't go there, no, not now. My head begins throbbing. It’s been ten minutes and I get off the bus in front of the grocery store. I walk inside and the cool air rejuvenates my body. The medication is on the other side of the store, so I slowly head towards it. There is hardly anyone in the store. I find some Tylenol and walk over to the cashier. She looks at me funny, like I might choose to use it to get high off of, but she can't stop me from buying it. I give her the five dollar bill out of my pocket. She hands me the receipts and some change. The screen says seventy cents, but I only count sixty. It doesn't matter though; I am in no mood to argue over a dime. I walk outside and over to the coke machine. I put in two quarters and press the button for water. It spits out a bottle, and I open it. I remove the lid from the Tylenol and grab a pill. I stick it in my mouth and swallow. I gulp down some water and walk towards the street. I am only a few blocks from my house now, so I start to head there. I walk across the street and there he is. The boy in my French class, sitting in the car I just walked past. I try to pretend like he’s not there but I can feel him staring at the back of my head. I turn around and he smiles. I can feel the corners of my mouth rising up, but I don’t want them to. I turn around and head on home pretending like I never even saw him. Chapter Two I head down my street and pause in front of my house. The big oak tree beckons to me. I walk over to it and touch the bark. My tree house sits up there, somewhere. I set my bag down next to the trunk and start to climb. I reach the ladder to the house and set my foot on it. I am afraid to look down. I haven’t been up here in years. I cautiously continue to climb until I am safe inside. I can’t stand up inside it anymore. I sit with my legs crossed staring at the broken pieces of chalk lying on the floor. I pick one up and begin to draw. I draw Michael and me, up here playing king and queen just like we used to when we were six or seven. We would laugh and never come down until my mom would make me come inside to eat dinner and Michael would have to go home. I don’t know what happened to Michael and I. We used to talk all the time, but now I don’t want to say anything to him and come up with excuse after excuse when he tries to talk to me. I wish I wasn’t like that though. Every time I see him I just want to tell him how he makes me feel, but I can’t. To be perfectly honest, the only reason I took French was so that I could have a class with him. I look down at the drawings and realize that they are spotted with my tears. Do these memories really hold that much emotion? Maybe I should have talked to him today, maybe I should go inside and call him, but I’d never have the confidence to do that. I leave my tree house and chalk drawings behind and head for the ladder. I climb down, and don’t look anywhere but straight in front of me until my two feet are firmly planted on the ground. I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder. I head over to the door and open it. I see my dad sitting on the couch. In front of him is the television screen which he is staring blankly at. The announcer is talking about a deadly car accident on the freeway between Jefferson and Prince. I look at the car that lies in the bank, crushed and burnt. You can still see the smoke rising above it. I look back at my dad and ask him what’s wrong. “Sit down,” she says as he tries to smile, but I don’t believe it. I put my backpack down by the door and take a seat in the recliner so I won’t have to look directly at him as he talks. I just want him to tell me what happened. But then it hits me. That car in the picture isn’t just any car, it’s my mother’s. And the lady that died was the person that I have known and loved for so long. I can feel my face burning up and I start to cry. “You figured it out, didn’t you?” he says. I try to mumble “uh, huh” but nothing is coming out. My head begins throbbing again. And I run off to my room, the only place that will ever be entirely my own. I hear the door slam behind me, but I didn’t do it. I throw myself down on top of my bed and cry. I can hear my dad, crying down the hall. Chapter Three I haven’t moved since yesterday. My body aches all over as I try to reach over and turn off my alarm clock. It’s Friday, and I have to get up and go to school. I stumble out of bed and walk over to my closet; I put on a pair of jeans and a white tank. I grab my converse and a pair of socks and walk out of my room. As I walk down the hall, I can tell that my dad isn’t here. There is no bacon frying and he isn’t snoring so he can’t still be asleep. I turn around and head for his bedroom. I open the door and see the bed, untouched. I figure he must have slept on the couch.

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Nov 2006
6:27 AM PST

I decided to start this journal so that I could have a place to write that would be all to myself. None of my friends could know about it and only the people who enjoy prying into others lives to see what they did last night would know. I plan to write a book in this journal, and see how it turns out. If you like it, good. If you don't, then that's your problem becuase chances are, this is my life. These are my thoughts. You don't live inside my head and aren't telling me what to do. I live off of my own standards and stand up for what I believe in.

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ticklmeamy's Profile

Username: ticklmeamy

Gender / Age: Female, 34

Location: USA - Arizona

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TICKLMEAMY's Interests:

About Me: My name is Amy and I am a freshman in high school. I live a seemingly normal and harmless life, but little does anyone know I am melting inside. I am dying to tell the world about the real me because the fake me doesn't cut it anymore. I want to discover my true self and see if it is accepted or rejected. I love to write about issues that the average person would keep hidden. I will tell you absolutely anything you want to know about me because I don't care if you judge me.

Interests: I love to go to malls and hang out with friends. I would die if all movie theatres dissappeared. I love a good laugh and enjoy special moments with the people I love.

Favorite Music: I am a huge fan of alternative because my firends got me hooked. I also enjoy contermporary Christian artists like Switchfoot.

Favorite Movies: I see way too many movies to have a favorite. If it has a good plot line, then I like it. The one movie that I saw this summer that really moved me was Click. It had a great message despite all the sick humor.

Favorite Television: I try not to watch too much television, but when I do, it is mostly game shows like Jeopardy and Who Wants to be a Millionare with my mom. I love Full House and Gilmore Girls as well.

Favorite Books: My two favorite books are Aimee and Speak. I don't like traditional books. I prefer books that might actually happen.