Amber

Chapter 3

OAK CREEK POLICE DEPARTMENT--CASE AC105: EVIDENCE COLLECTION (ADMISSION D)

September 9, 2014

Dear Journal,

I feel so weird starting that way.

I mean, it's like saying, 'Dear inanimate object that can't read ... I'm writing to you because to hell with it and what do you care? This is what you were made for. It's not like you have anything else to do except sit there and be written in, so deal with it.'

I used to think keeping a journal or a diary was something only completely deranged girls (or guys, YIKES!) with emotional scarring did so that they could get out all of the crazy, but I've had a change of heart.

Yes, because of a boy ...

God, I feel pathetic writing that. Now I'm one of those girls who obsessively scribbles away her feelings for a guy in pages that will be kept well-contained under lock and key because, good lord, if anyone ever read them, they'd realize how insane she is and then tell said-guy about the loon he's mixed himself up with.

Which brings us to the point. Why write at all?

Because I'm not writing to an inanimate object. The journal is not the reader—I am. This is about building myself up. Finding confidence.

I'm doing this so that I can monitor the progress of how this goes. Yes, it was Hannah's idea. She says it's therapeutic. That physically seeing your own thoughts is the best way to understand them.

No, I'm not telling her I'm actually doing it. Then she'd think she can talk me into anything. She has enough to be proud of on her life resume' without adding Little Sister Commander to her titles.

I am way new to this whole dating thing (not that we're dating yet—not even close, actually. Sigh) and I feel like I'm thinking about him every moment of the day and can't keep all of the thoughts from running wild. So I need something that wrangles them all together and keeps the stuff I'm feeling from bubbling over in a mess of a disaster that drowns the whole world as we know it. (Getting out all of the crazy ...)

Yes, I have Hannah and all of her seventeen years of existence, the last three of which she has gained a ton of experience on the subject of guys and the dating of them. But I want another outlet. A pillow that I can scream or smile into depending on how everything goes with ...

I haven't said his name yet.

Maybe I'm afraid to write it down because I'm afraid of losing him already even though I don't have him exactly, and once I record his name it will be like I can never fully erase him. I could be eighty years old and a widow and still think about the first boy who broke my heart because I was stupid enough to let him play with it, and all boys play rough.

God, that's so deep. Hailey, you pretty much kick ass at this journal-writing thing!

Yes, that's what I must do. Be positive. Build myself up. Hailey, you rock star. You did well today. Okay, so fine, maybe you were all awkward and gross with a mild case of stutter-speech, but it could have been worse. Baby steps. Take it a day at a time, and eventually he'll come around and be all, like, this girl is amazing. I must have her, and she must have all TEN of my children and wha ...

And we're reeling it back in now. Psycho show over.

But today was amazing. Meeting him was unplanned, and it felt like we were destined to bump into each other. Okay, so maybe we just met today ... but everything has to start somewhere.

For us it started in the library at school. It was during study hall hour, and I sometimes grab a pass to go down to the library because it's quieter. I get tired of sitting all day, so it's nice to walk around, especially when the halls are empty.