Hidden Key

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It was about 3:37 when I arrived home. My moms car was already parked in the driveway. Which meant she was probably running around the house trying to find me. Chances are that I'd get in trouble for not being home when she had asked. I advanced to the front door quickly after grabbing my stuff. I was just about to grab my key when the door flung open and I was nearly squeezed to death by my overprotective mother.

"Oh sweetie I was worried you disappeared! Why were you at Claire's so long? I thought you just stayed there until your car was washed." She let go of her embrace but still had a tight grip on my arms so I couldn't go away.

"Yeah, but I forgot my bag at her place so I went back and got it." I faked a wide smile. "But I'm alright.
I tried to move but her fingernails dug into my skin slightly. "Ouch! Mom let go of my arms."

Realizing that her nails dug into my arm, she quickly let go and rubbed the mark smoothly. "Sorry hun.
You just usually come home when I tell you to, and I just got worried for your safety."

"I understand mom. I appreciate it, I really do but can I just go upstairs now?" I begged.

"Yeah sure. Dinner will be ready by the time your father gets back from work."

"Okay thanks." I didn't hear what she said next after that because I had already climbed the stairs and was about to start walking down the small hallway to my room.

I walked to my bedroom door slowly, relieved that the conversation was finally over. My room welcome me as I swung open the door. My pink and white checkered bedspread lay perfectly on my bed. Throwing my bag and phone upon it I sat stubbornly. The bedspread quickly scrunched around where I was sitting. There was a desk to the right of me that took up the majority of the wall and beside it was my bookcase which was filled with books. A painful headache disrupted my train of thought, instinctively I laid myself down. I closed my eyes for only two minutes when I heard a soft knock on my door.

Ugh she already wants me to do something.

"Go away mom, I'll be down there in a bit!" When there was no response I sat back up on my bed and rubbed my eyes. I opened my eyes to see me dad walking in. Although it didn't make any sense because he gets home for another three hours, I shook my head lightly and rotated my body to look at my alarm clock on my nightstand.

"I guess I was asleep longer than I thought." I laughed silently, noticing it was 6:34. I turned myself back around to face my dad. "What are we having for dinner?"

"Your mother said we were having spaghetti with meatballs, salad, and garlic bread." He smiled weakly, he was still wearing his business suit so he mustn't have been home long.

"Sounds delicious." I said. My mothers spaghetti meals were one of the few meals she could cook, without burning the house down. I laughed silently to myself, remembering all the times she almost did burn the house down.

One time, she nearly burnt down the house when she forgot that the lasagna was in the oven while she was busy completing some errands, she came home to a burnt lasagna. In the end she just ordered take out from the local Chinese restaurant.

Another time, she attempted to make her grandmothers secret meatloaf recipe. She ended up making four because she couldn't get the recipe to taste exactly like her grandmothers. After she tasted the fourth and it still didn't taste anything like the ones she had as a child she began to burst into tears and threw the then in the trash.

My dad and I both felt horrible for her, she had been really close to her grandma. When she passed she fought for that recipe so hard, and now she couldn't even cook it correctly without bursting into sobs.

That night my dad ordered a pizza from the local Papa Johns, during dinner my mom ate quickly, and went to sleep silently. My mom requested later that month that my dad made the meatloaf and lasagna.

Memories continued to drift through my thoughts as I was suddenly pulled back into reality with a small poke from my father.

"Jasmine."

"Mhm?"

"Did you hear what I said?" He grabbed my hand softly and gave it a small squeeze.

"Oh no, sorry." I said.

"I said that you need to be ready for dinner in about thirty minutes." Letting out a sigh as he rubbed his chin and the sides of his checks with his free hand before removing his hand in mine.

"Is everything alright dad?" I asked, "Something happen at work?"

"No, nothing like that." He answered as he walked towards my door to leave. Suddenly he stopped and glanced at me again with his hand on the door knob, it was only then that I saw the tears in his eyes. "You don't have to worry." With that he shut the door quietly.

I sat there on the side of my bed for a few mixtures before I remembered that I had forgotten to check something when I had arrived home earlier.

I arose from my bed, kneeled down and grabbed the key underneath my mattress. Unlocking the third drawer of my desk with the key, I grabbed my secret journal I put all my secrets and thoughts in.
Oh good you're still here. I rub the front of the book slightly with my thumb and flip through the pages quickly, scanning the book from front to back.
Yes, I know that it's weird to have a locked drawer with my journal hidden inside, but I started locking all my secrets into this drawer after my first suspicion of being stalked my someone. I also know that it would be easier to just throw out the journal or something but I don't know, I can't bring myself to do it. When I was younger my mom always told me that if you didn't have nothing nice to say, write it down and let it go. So I've grown up writing my feelings down, it actually helps and I can't let that creep get their filthy hands on this, all my dirty secrets and lies I've ever told in a single book.
Luckily, no one knows about my
secret drawer with the hidden key, especially my journal; not James, Claire, nor my parents and it had to stay that way.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Sep 11, 2015 ⏰

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