Second Chances

• Chapter 15 •

Chapter 15

I woke up the next morning feeling confident and happy. I finally found a solution to Ty’s amnesia problem; his journals. I was so caught up in figuring out how to tell Tyler that Renee was a vindictive, manipulative little slut, that I was missing the obvious. Tyler would have surely written about his and Renee’s big secret. And if his drunken claims were true; that he really did love me, then maybe there would be a couple pages on that too.

I decided to start the day with an early morning jog…to his house and find these journals! I rang him last night to see how he was going and what he had planned for the next day. He told me he was going to be out all day with doctor’s appointments and a police interview about the night of his incident. I offered to go with him, but he felt as if it were better he face it alone. So, instead I’m going into his house and taking the journals off the bookshelf and then put them somewhere where he will see it, yet not too obvious. I don’t want him to feel as if someone had broken in and rearranged his whole room or something. I mean, technically it’s not breaking in if you have a key…

I locked the door behind me as I stepped outside into the chilly morning air, flicking my black hood up over my hair. I put in my black ear buds and began to jog around the block before detouring to a small no through road. Considering Tyler conveniently lived just across the road, I felt it would be almost pointless to waste such a good running outfit only to jog for about a minute to his house. I jogged for about ten minutes, smelling the wet pavement and freshly brewed coffee from the neighbour’s house. I nodded a hello to the only old couple up in the quiet estate, while heading back towards Tyler’s house. I caught my breath, pulling my ear buds out from my ears and casually walked up the front steps. I seemingly looked around to make sure no one was watching before I stealthy unlocked the door and shut it quietly behind me. I locked it back up, just in case.

I pulled down my hood and stared in disbelief at his messy lounge. His house hadn’t looked this messy since his accident. What has he been doing?! A pile of half eaten pizzas lay in the greasy box, shared with a couple empty tubs of Ben & Jerry's cookie dough ice-cream atop of the chocolate-coloured coffee table. An empty bottle of whiskey stood next to the flat screen TV along with empty plastic cups. I had the sudden urge to clean it up, but refrained as I remembered what I was here for. I opened the door to Tyler's bedroom and scrunched up my nose. It smelled terrible. Tyler is usually the neat one; he's the one usually cleaning up my mess. All different pairs of men and women's underwear lay on the carpet and empty condom packets clattered the small black bin next to the bookcase. I thought I was about to throw up. Did Renee finally get what she wanted? An oblivious man she could easily string along and use for sex and money whenever she pleased? I shook off the terrifying thought and glanced at the bookcase. That's where I'd seen his journals the last time. But to my despair, they had disappeared. Tyler must've been pretty embarrassed about me finding them, to hide them. Too afraid to move the mess into one big pile under bed for fear of being caught, I scanned on the floor for red leather. Nothing caught my eye at first, but then I caught a glimpse of gold, reflecting from the sunshine coming through the window. It was coming from under the bed. I crouched down to peer underneath and squealed in excitement. The journals! The gold that was reflecting, was the numbers on the spine. One, two, three, four, five and six; they were all there. I beamed in excitement as I reached out to get them. I clutched them in my arms while deciding where to put them. Maybe I should just put them on the shelf when I last saw them…or maybe one on his bedside table and the rest in his drawers…or,…SLAM! I froze in my tracks as I heard a car door slam shut. Someone’s here. I furrowed my brows. Tyler said he’d be out all day. Surely he hadn’t come home already. Maybe it was next door? I shrugged it off and began placing the diaries in order on the bottom shelf. I wondered how far Tyler had gotten to writing in them. I opened the sixth journal and flicked through it until I reached the last page. There was about five lines written in his neat hand-writing; something I was always jealous about. My hand-writing was shocking!