DEAR DIARY
Chapter Seven
Gently opening the book, Rose gasped as a
handful of papers fell to the ground. Picking them up, she set them aside to
look at later. For now, she wanted to read the innermost thoughts of the man
she had loved and lost so quickly. Turning to the first page, she sat back to
read.
May 13, 1907
Journal,
Nobody besides Mother ever knew about my
love for writing, which is evident in the way she secretly gave me this book
tonight. My birthday is today. I turned an old fifteen years. Father and Stevie
chipped in together and bought me an incredible art set, which is set up in my
studio in the attic. It's great. It came with paints, drawing pencils, paper,
brushes, everything you could ever need. Grams and Gramps stopped by for
dinner, giving me a leather portfolio folder for my drawings. It must've cost a
fortune, but Grams insisted I keep it. I should turn in for the night, school
tomorrow, and Freddie and I have plans for Mrs. Michaels.
JD
Rose smiled at the familiar initials scrawled
at the bottom of the entry. So, Jack had a secret passion for writing. Suddenly
a feeling of inclusion came over her. She may not have known him then, but now
she knew something nobody else but his mother had known. It made Rose feel
special.
May 14, 1907
Journal,
The plan was foiled! Freddie was caught
with the bucket of mud and told Mr. Rondal that it was my idea! Now we're
sentenced to detention for the rest of the year. Father grounded me to the farm
for two weeks, too. Stevie found it amusing, though, and he promised to be
lookout when we come up with our next prank. At least being grounded gives me
more time to draw.
I had the weirdest dream last night. In it, I was standing in front of one of
them big, rich people's houses, you know, the kind they have in Madison. Anyway,
I was standing there and it was raining when these three men came out the front
door, carrying a large coffin, and loaded it into an automobile. I looked up
and saw this girl sitting in a window on the second floor, just sitting there
crying, watching the men load the coffin. All of a sudden the bars on the
windows folded in and she was locked in a cage. I felt so bad and I wanted
nothing more than to help her, but when I tried to get inside the house, two
men stood guarding it, telling me I didn't belong there. When I looked back up
at the girl, she was dead. It was pretty scary. Mother's calling for dinner
now, so I must go. Bye!
JD
Confusion stung Rose's mind as she re-read
Jack's dream. A second later, she gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. The
entry was dated May 14, 1907, three days before her father had passed away. It
had to be a coincidence, didn't it? But the similarities were uncanny. The
rain, the thing about three men carrying a coffin from the house, the girl, who
would've been herself, sitting in an upstairs window, crying.
"What does it all mean, Jack?" Rose
whispered, closing the book before sighing. "I need to sleep."