Maggie's story

Maggie's diary (part 1)

Hey I'm just publishing this story so i would love it if you guys would give me some feedback on it :) thanks!

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Prologue

They say that you can tell where a person’s been by their feet. If so, my feet would be muddy yet clean, chlorine from swimming in pools they would have animal hair and dandruff. I have been many places and seen many things, but the worst of those things was seeing my mother when she was shot.

“Mom, I don’t think we have enough money for my lunch today.” I sat down the tin box that kept all of our money and change.

“Look again.” My mom’s voice seemed irritated. Maybe it was because I had made her mad that day because I had snooped into her business and found out that I was going to have to move with my step-father.

“I did I looked twice.” I sauntered over to the tin box again, checking all around the sides of it.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it, just don’t eat lunch.” It felt like a hundred pound weight had dropped into the pit of my stomach. I hadn’t eaten anything for three days. It was unusual though because normally Billy (my step-dad) would have come and given my mother money by now.

“Yes mam.” I was a poor hungry tall blonde white girl living in the slums of Manhattan. Yes, I was educated, and well at that, but no I didn’t live in the nice side of town, where I heard people can drive to school in cars.

“Bye Hun, you need to pack when you get home. Your leaving in the mornin’ to go to your father’s house.

“Ok.” Who was I to argue with my mom about going to my real father’s house.

I walked out of the door, but right as I did I heard a loud pop. It sounded just like those fireworks that my neighbors pop on the fourth of July. But this one was much louder, and I heard a blood curdling cry. It came from right behind me. I whirred around to find a short man carrying a black revolver. He turned to me a look of sadness washed over his face. I guess he didn’t know that a little girl was in this house. He ran over to me, and I winced as he shoved the cold black weapon into my small twelve year-old hands. He brushed by me as I stood frozen at the sight before me.

My mother’s body was sprawled out on the tile floor blood pooled around the brim of her head. She sat there motionless I dared not to move. My life was at a full out stand still, eventually the police came they swarmed the whole house. They walked up to me asking if I was all right, but I couldn’t speak my words felt like they had been jammed down to the deepest part of my throat.

“Mam? Mam, are you ok.” A tall police man asked me as the others searched for evidence. That was when the police man’s eyes rested on my small hands, which concealed the gun.

I tried to tell him what happened, but it had happened so fast. The police had grabbed me and closed off my hands with hand-cuffs. They forced me into the police car. My eyes wide I sank down into the scratchy seat of the car. I went over this all in my mind, but it just didn’t make any since. I hadn’t seen the man that shot my mother before, but I felt like I had. Like he was an old friend that had stopped for a visit in the past.

I finally shoved the words out of me. “Where are we going?” I asked completely puzzled. Why wouldn’t they be looking for the man who shot my mother? Why weren’t they taking me to a foster home or something?

“To juvenile hall.” He spoke with a scruffy voice.

“Why?” I said sitting up in my chair and feeling at the hand-cuffs that had been tightly placed on my wrists.

“Well, you are guilty of murder. This hall will be for your own good.” I stopped. My eyebrows shot straight up. He thought I had murdered my mom?

“No, that wasn’t me I didn’t kill her it was a man he ran in a-“ I was cut off.

“Ok, just tell all of this to the main interrogators.” And with that all was silent.

Chapter 1

          Beep! Beep! Beep!

          I smacked my hand down on the stupid beeping electronic. I then returned my hand to the toasty safe-haven of my comforter. A few seconds past before I tossed the covers off of me. I slid out of my bed and walked into my bathroom. Twisting the knob for my shower, I stepped a cold toe into the warm water. I washed all of the dust off of me. My bed had been in the attic for the past three weeks and all of the dust hadn’t quite gotten off of it.

          “Honey.” My step-mom’s chipper voice blared over the speaker. How could she be so happy at four o’clock a.m.? “I made you some waffles they are waiting on the counter down here for you.” The speaker cracked a little as I stepped out of the shower dried off and pressed the talk button.

          “Ok, I’ll be right down Carole.” I took my hand off of the button and walked into my room. I chose a cute t-shirt and some low-cut jeans.

          I took the stairs two at a time. When I got into the kitchen my mom was drinking a steaming cup of coffee. “Good morning. Are you all packed for your dad’s house?” Tears bit at my eyes. The only other time I had ever heard those words were when my mom had said them. I could still remember her light but firm voice.

          “Yeah,” I walked over to the waffles. They were a little burnt, I hated them that way.

          “Go on ahead, you can eat one.” Carole stared at me expectantly.

          I took one more glance at the waffles. “Nah, I’m fine. Not that hungry anyway.” I said grabbing my suitcase out of the hall closet.

          “Um, ok, do you need a ride to your father’s?” She asked starting to stand up.

          “No, I can drive.” My mom’s face fell.

          “That’s fine, ok well by… I love you.” I tried to ignore the passion in her voice as I walked out of the door and into the warm summer air.

          Why was I up at four? Because my father’s new wife got home at six, and I wanted to spend some time alone with my dad.

          I jumped on my ten gear bike and rode all of the way to my dad’s large mansion. His wife was filthy rich and my dad wasn’t one to give some of his money away to his only daughter.

          As I rounded the corner a flock of ravens flew off as if they were trying to get away from something dastardly. Don’t be scared Sam doesn’t live in this neighborhood, I told myself. I quickly peddled down the road and pulled into my dad’s driveway, where I was rudely greeted by the automatic sprinklers.

          My old step-dad had left me not wanting me if my mom was dead. So I was given to Carole at a foster daughter. My dad had been married to Natasha for a year now and every year I spent the summer at my dad’s house, the more vicious she got.