DEAR DIARY
Chapter Six
May 1, 1912
Dear Diary,
I do apologize for not taking the time to
write these past few weeks, but Steven and I have been spending so much time
together. I can honestly see where Jack got his heart of gold from. Next to his
brother, Steven is the most gentle, kind, and caring man I have ever known. The
time we've spent together is mostly talking about Jack. I've learned so much,
like what he was like as a child. The stories he's told me are so precious,
especially the one about Jack falling through the ice when he was eleven. The
story, that in reality, saved my life. There are emotional times, though, where
we'll be talking and his eyes will look so vacant, and I'll know he's thinking
about his baby brother. It breaks my heart, knowing Jack was barely twenty
years old when he died. There was so much for him to offer the world, and now
he'll never have the chance. Sometimes, I wonder if it all was really worth it.
If meeting me was worth losing his life. It's then Steven comes and reminds me
that Jack loved me, even though those beautiful words never left his mouth. I
was so fortunate to have met Steven. He's been telling me everything he knew of
Jack, as I have been filling him in on the little Jack told me of his travels.
The more I learn, the more I come to love and miss him. He died so I could live,
giving his life in exchange for mine. I just pray he knows that if the roles
were reversed, I would do the same for him.
Rose Dawson
Rose closed her eyes in an attempt to stop
the tear flow. It still hurt so much to think of Jack, to imagine his sweet face,
and hear his melodic laugh echo through her mind.
Slowly reopening them again, her gaze fell
upon the tiny, locked box Steven had found under Jack's bed and had given her.
Rising from her chair, she crossed the room and picked it up. There was a small
key taped on the bottom, and she gingerly removed it. Thoughts were racing
through her mind as she acknowledged that Jack had once touched the very same
box, the same key. Biting her lower lip, she inserted the brass key into the
lock. As she lifted the top, the familiar scent of, well, Jack, floated up and
blended with her senses. Choking back another round of tears, she opened it.
Inside were a varied assortment of photos and a large envelope. Setting aside
the pictures, she opened the envelope. Residing inside was a small black book
with the words Jack's Journal scrawled across the front.