Christopher Andrew

The Diary

“It must be in the attic. I’ll look for it later.”

The rest of the day passed by quickly, and that night I dreamed of dresses.

****

The next morning I woke up to find that my sister would be gone for the day at some friends house. Both of my parents were at work so I had the day to myself. I had breakfast, then remembered my dresses. So, today I would have an adventure in the attic.

I began searching. I found something, but it was not what I was looking for. A basket, with a big lacy album that I assumed was my parents wedding album, and a few old looking diaries. I put them off to the side, hoping to get a chance to look at them later. I continued my search. I couldn’t find it anywhere. I’d have my mom look for it later. I returned my attention to my basket of goodies. I took the whole thing into my arms and returned to my room.

I started with the album. It is my parents wedding album, I thought to myself as I rifled through the pages. I laughed when I recognized my dad’s friend, Mason, being a dork. Then I laughed even harder when I saw one with the both of them, and a third man I didn’t recognize doing some weird pose for the camera. I ogled at my mother, in her beautiful wedding dress. Then awed at one of my parents kissing underneath a tree, whose leaves had turned a gorgeous shade of gold.

When I saw one of my parents, at the reception, covered in silly string, I was flooded with memories of my aunt and uncle’s wedding where we did the same thing. 

“Regina? Regina! Where are you?” my grandmother called to me.

“I’m here Grandma!” I whispered, tapping her knee.

“What are you doing under the table?” she asked calmly.

“I’m hiding from May and Todd,” I said, confused as to why that was a problem.

“Get out from under there,” I heard my Grandfather’s rough voice say.

“But Grandpa, I don’t want them to see me when I spray them!” I told him.

“How are you going to spray them from under that table?” asked my reasonable grandfather. I thought about that. I wouldn’t able to. The long, heavy table cloth was in the way. Besides, I couldn’t reach the long table where they were sitting from here. I slowly got out from my hiding place. Moments later my Grandmother whispered to me. 

“It’s time,” she breathed into my ear. I gladly took the can from her, and shook it. Then I followed the others to where the newly wedded couple sat. I whipped out my silly string can and pressed the button. Bright blue, wet, silly string erupted out of my hands at the same time everybody else’s did. Neon colors of all sorts flew through the air, then landed on the couple. Everyone burst into laughter.

I knew that when it came to be mine, and Leslie’s turn, our unsuspecting husbands would be covered in the mess with us. I laughed at the thought. Then flipped through the last pages of the album.I set it aside, picking up the three diaries. I looked at each of them in turn, wondering where to start. Choosing the oldest looking one, I dived in.

At the top, unmistakably my mother’s scrawled handwriting read Tuesday, January 3, 1989. The year she graduated. She mostly talked about her friends, some boys she liked, dates she went on, and this mysterious Jon, who seemed to love her, but was away at college. Yes, I did read the whole thing. I loved reading, and finding out about my mother was interesting. It ended April 20, 1989. I went on to the next one.

This one was from her college years, starting on Tuesday, February 6, 1990. It read:

My whole being hurts. Not only is my body changing, exhausted and wounded, but my spirit is also. I’ve been waiting since last May for my life to improve and so far things have only been piling one on top of each other. My only bright spot is Brad. I’m so frightened to become too caught up though. I wish he could be here to hold me right now. I’ve tried so many times to care - especially with Dean, - but I only get kicked in the face. I know that he worries about me and he does try to show me that, but I just have so many things built up inside. I hope I made the right decision.