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by xSandra

by xSandra

The next morning is Thursday. A plain Thursday. I get up and shake my head for a bit. I look at myself in the mirror and find my hair is sticking out EVERYWHERE. I sigh deeply and attempt to find my hairbrush. When I finally got it, I try to brush it which was practically impossible. It takes some time before my hair finally looks decent. "Well that worked," I mutter to myself and I walk back to my bed again. I feel like finishing the journal today so I open it and I try to read the next few entries.

June 3rd, 2010

Dearest reader,

I went to the hairdresser today to cut off the dead ends, and all the hair that was still brown and I want it back to my normal haircolor again. I also got myself some new shoes. Football shoes, which isn't quite a bit surprise, of course.

Tomorrow I'm going to train in Spain for the last time. I told the club that I'd be back soon and that I'd be travelling abroad for a few weeks, which is true. When I arrive in South Africa, I think I'll travel around first, I wish to see the country too. I'm kind of sad to leave Spain behind though.

June 6th, 2010

Dearest reader,

I'm on the plane now and people are not bothering me at all. I'm reading a book that I got at the airport and it's kind of interesting actually. I mean, it could be worse definitely. The trip will be far too long, but I'll be fine really. I'll finish this book by the time I arrive in South Africa. I sent my family a letter with tickets to the game and to SA, and I hope they will come to see me there, but I doubt it. They are probably worried sick about me.

One more page left, fully written. A very long story. I don't start reading it now, but I will tonight or tomorrow. I am however, quite curious to read what he has to say on the day before the championships. He probably wrote it while he was in his room in this house. I get up, and take my phone. One new message.

"Rose told me there is a party tonight that we have been invited to. Are you going though? - Hailey"

I text Hailey back quickly that I will be going to the party and that I will be bringing a guy, Roberto, that I met yesterday. And that it's all a long story. But I tell her I'd explain it to her later. My parents would be so angry with me if they found out I made out with a guy that is about 8 years older than I am. So it's best if I keep that a secret again. Keeping secrets from my family just doesn't seem right...

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June 10th, 2010

Dearest reader,

Tomorrow the World Championships begin, and this will probably be the last entry I will write in my journal. I will leave this journal in this house, and I hope someone will end up reading it and will share the secret with me. I have told you everything that has happened to me in the last few months and I don't think I would want anyone else in the world. You can pass this on to your children or so.

You read Roberto's story and you read Fernando's story and you heard it. Life goes on, you know that now. You always come back to the place you're supposed to be. I hope to meet you one day, like to really meet you as Fernando. And I hope you'll be sitting there in the crowd as I'll make my comeback. You'll be looking at me, and I'll be looking at you. You'll be a piece of me, eventhough I don't really know you exactly.

At the end of this journal I placed an envelope with a ticket to the game I'll be attending, and I would like you to come there, if you can. So you can see me having rebuild my life. I hope you will do well in life too. Go to college, get married, have childeren and live a long and happy life. There's still a few pages left in this notebook and I would like you to write down there what had happened to you when this notebook was placed in your hands. Just let everyone do that.

Dearest Alexandra,

Of course I knew you would be the one finding this journal. I'm sure you're mother doesn't know anything now, but she'll find out eventually. You could explain her, and even let her read this, I'm sure it'll all go just fine, I promise.

Thank you for keeping this a secret for so long. I'll miss writing to you. I hope to see you at the match soon. Give me my journal and I'll write something in it for the last time and then you can have it forever. And you can do whatever you want with it. Well, I'd rather not have you give it to the media or anything.

Love,

Fernando Torres