Something you had that
was stolen:
Where is it!? I
frantically rushed about my bedroom tossing objects in every direction; socks,
books, videos, clothes, everything you could possibly imagine to be contained
in a 16-year-old-girl’s room. It’s not
here. Where could it be?? I sunk onto my bare mattress, disappointment
washing over me. I had lost it. My most prized possession. How could I have
lost it? The one thing… the one thing that means everything to me: my journal.
It was beautifully handcrafted, bound in soft, Italian leather. My mother had
given it to me a few days before she died. She told me, her voice quivering
with tears not yet exposed, to write down every thought, every feeling, and
that it would help me through the days ahead. She said I would have to be
strong. She told me to never stop believing, never stop trying to be best
person I could possibly be.
That was five years ago. Memories of my mother had faded
into near oblivion, yet my journal was the one thing that remembered her
clearly. My journal held every feeling I had after she left me. It contained so
many of my most precious memories of her. The fact that I had lost it would
haunt me forever. I feel as if I have lost her forever… again. There was a
sudden knock on my bedroom door. I arose from the bed and pulled it open to
reveal my best friend, standing completely still and pale, staring at me with
tears rolling down her face. “I’m so sorry, Abby.”
“Sorry for…?” I replied, confused. She stared at me.
“Surely, by now, you know what I’ve done.” She stated,
staring at her feet. Realization washed over me. I stared at her, angrier than
I had ever been in my life.
“You took my journal.” The tears poured faster down her
cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, Abby. I was just so mad at you. Rebecca
told me that she saw you chatting up John the other day after school. I felt so
betrayed. I just wanted to find something to embarrass you… to pay you back…
but then I began to read it and…”
She held out my journal, my life, every memory of my
mother. I snatched it out of her hands and slammed the door in her face.
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