Chapter One

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So I feel really bad for not updating my other stories, so I thought I'd post this. It isn't edited, but I wrote it back in January and I thought it'd be nice to post something to thank you all for putting up with my infrequent updates.

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“That’s going to be three dollars and twenty five cents.”

I pulled a rumpled five-dollar bill out of my pocket and placed it on the counter, grabbing the bag and drink off the counter. I could smell the large fries that I had ordered and I sipped at the Coke I had purchased as well.

“Have a nice day.” The cashier said, handing me my change, a fake smile plastered to her face.

“Next!” she shouted as I walked away, my arms swinging slightly.

I walked outside and was immediately hit by sweltering heat. It was August in New York City, what else could I expect?

The summer was my favourite time of year. Despite me being an April baby, I didn’t like spring as much as I loved summer. I loved the heat and sun that that August provided much more than the wet rains that poured down during April.

My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out of my messenger bag that I carried everywhere. The bag held several things, the most important being my journal and my precious phone.

I quickly unlocked the device, seeing I had a text from my best friend, Gemma.

From: Gemmaaaa

Hey Kenzie! Up to anything special?

Kenzie was what most people called me; it’s short for Mackenzie, in case that wasn’t obvious.

To:  Gemmaaaa

Just walking around…didn’t feel like staying at home

I was nearing Central Park now. I didn’t exactly live close to it, so I knew I had been walking for a while now. My drink was about halfway done and I hadn’t even touched my fries yet. The park was busy with screaming children and vendors. It wasn’t serene like it was in the morning; I liked the park the best at that time.

My phone buzzed twice, signaling that I had two new messages. I sat down on an unoccupied wooden bench that was just off the main path in the park, and opened up my messages. A smile lit up my face when I read the first one, but my mood immediately dropped when I read the second one.

From: Gemmaaaa

Is anything up? Need me to meet you at the playground or somewhere?

From: Mom

Don’t wait up for us. We’ll be back tomorrow.

My parents and I had an interesting relationship, one could say. We were your typical, average American family; there was my mom, my father, and I. They worked hard at their jobs to afford living in New York City, and there was always more than enough money for Christmas and birthdays. They didn’t neglect me or anything; they gave me an allowance for clothes and there was always food in the fridge, but after my brother died when I was twelve, they dealt with the pain of losing him by throwing themselves into work and figured I could take care of myself for the most part.

To: Gemmaaaa

Just the normal. I’m fine :)

I continued my short walk through the park, and decided to start heading home. It was four thirty so I would reach home around five and be able to catch a rerun of the new Ellen episode. Ellen was hilarious, I loved her. But then again, who didn’t?

I walked peacefully down the crowded sidewalks, my headphones covering my ears and Ed Sheeran’s smooth accented voice calmed me.

I will fall for you

And I will fall for you

If I fall for you, would you fall too?

Suddenly I felt a large body crash into me, and before I knew it, my body clattered to the ground, the contents of my bag falling onto the ground at the opening of an empty alleyway.

“Holy shit!” a voice exclaimed over me as I clutched my head.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed, opening my eyes.

A man stood over me, a beanie covering his hair and sunglasses blocking my view of his eyes. His hand was outstretched, waiting for me to grab it so I could get up.

“Watch where you’re going.” I snapped, grabbing my bags and hoisting myself up on my own.

“It was an accident. Sorry.” He defended himself.

“Whatever.” I muttered, and walked back onto the sidewalk, away from the man.

My mood dropped significantly after that encounter. I kept my bags clutched tightly, and changed my music to Drake’s Take Care album, since it fit my mood. I reached my apartment just after five and it was empty, as expected. I popped a couple quesadillas into the microwave, and turned on the television. I finally let myself smile as I looked at Ellen dance her way through the crowd.

I devoured the Mexican food and the McDonald’s I had bought earlier as I sat on my couch in the dark, my eyes strained as I stared at the bright screen, but I couldn’t be bothered to stand up and switch the light on.

A few shows later, I finally turned the television off and made my way to my room. My bag was slung over my shoulder and I dumped it on my bed. I grabbed my laptop and switched it on.

As I waited for it to boot up, I caught sight of my face in my mirror. A beanie covered my mousse coloured hair and a pair of glasses were placed in front of my grey eyes. My eyes reminded me of concrete; bare and ugly. My Mom used to say they were beautiful and unique, now she didn’t really say anything.

The screen on my laptop finally lit up and I opened up the Internet browser, quickly going onto Facebook and checking for messages. After I’d finished, I logged out, and shut down my computer.

I grabbed my bag and reached into it, feeling for the thick book I called my journal, or sometimes, my diary. It depended how I felt. After a moment of not feeling it, my mind went into red alert when I couldn’t feel the hardcover book. I grabbed my bag and frantically emptied it hoping for that I was just tired and somehow missed it. I had no such luck and my eyes widened with horror when I realized something.

I had lost my journal.

It was the one thing in the world, other than my brain, that held all my secrets, fears, and worries. I protected it with my life and never let anyone touch it. I started keeping it when I was sixteen and I poured my soul into it when I wrote about everything in the world I worried about. I don’t know why I had started keeping it, I guess it felt good to be able to put my raw emotions down on paper and not worry what anyone thought. 

Now my diary was missing in the biggest city in the world, and anyone could have it. Someone could be reading it right now and laughing at my stupidity. How did I not notice the change of weight in my bag after I’d fallen?  

That was where I was sure I had lost it. In that damn alleyway where that stupid asshole had knocked me down. I suddenly felt a burst of anger towards that man. If he hadn’t bumped into me, I wouldn’t have fallen and my diary wouldn’t have spilled out. He probably had it right now. I didn’t know who the hell the man was and I was almost positive he had the book that held my heart and soul in writing.

I had to get it back.

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So what do you guys think? I'd really appreciate any sort of feedback because this is the first original piece of writing I've posted here!

~ Shakira 

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⏰ Last updated: May 04, 2013 ⏰

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