Mom's been in Europe now for months. She'll send a postcard every now and again from somewhere different; Monaco, Berlin, Paris.
I don't think she'll ever come back, if she has a choice in it. Right before she left, I remember her holding my face, her eyes all big and watery. She said I look just like my father. Maybe that's why she can't stand being around me. Grandfather said she left because of me. I asked him what he meant and he just said that my lack of self-awareness was startling.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
I feel like nothing I ever do is good enough. I can get the best grades, stay out of everyone's way, not cause any trouble and still it all seems to be my fault.
Sometimes Grandfather will just look at me and I can see in his eyes the pitiful, unending disappointment.
But what am I doing wrong?
What's wrong with me?
Is there just some deep, incurable thing inside of me that repulses the people who are supposed to love me? Sometimes I feel like I can feel it. Like it's a real, physical thing growing inside of me, pressing on my organs, stopping my breath. I want to just run away, I even packed my bag.
But where would I go?
How can you run away from yourself?
I feel so trapped. I'm starting to feel like there's no way out and I feel so alone.
There are smudges in the ink. Traces of tears angrily brushed aside. I feel utterly helpless. How is it possible that there is someone suffering so much, so close by, but I have no idea who he is? I guess no one really knows what's going on with people on the inside.
I don't know how to find the boy, but it all seems kind of futile. He has my bag, with every one of my books with HARLOW RILEY written all over it so he has to know who I am. Maybe he just doesn't want to be found?
I sit down at my desk in my pink, paw-print pyjamas and pull out a pen and paper. Outside the sun is just beginning to rise. I've barely slept all night.
The unknown author, the Book-Boy haunts me.
I can't find you, how can I find you?
I bite my lip, it's all chapped from constantly nipping at it all week. I think for a moment then start to write.
Dear ...
Well, I don't know your name. I really have no idea who you are, but I know you know who I am.
I read your book, well, parts of it anyway. I haven't told anyone, and I wouldn't tell anyone, even if I knew who you were.
I know more about this stuff than most people and I want to help you, if I can, if you'll let me. I know you're hurting, but please, don't do anything you will regret. Pain is temporary, as suffocating as it seems.
You can talk to me. I want to help you. Find me. Or just know how much I want to be found.
Harlow Riley
I add my address and number then fold up the paper and slip it into the journal. I guess I'll just have to trust the rest to fate.
Yawning the whole time, I get ready and arrive at school that day with dark circles under my eyes and a decided droopiness to my whole body. Alex and Vanessa are waiting for me at the bus stop and we all walk in together.
"You look terrible!" Vanessa says as soon as she sees me.
"Thanks a lot!" I answer sarcastically.
"Were you up all night worried about today?"
I shake my head. "I was thinking about the boy the bag belongs to."
Alex makes a sound of disgust. "This is getting out of control. You need to stop. Give it to me, I'll get rid of it." He reaches to grab the bag but I twitch it back.
"It's alright Alex, I'm taking it to lost and found today."
"What?" Vanessa's mouth drops. "That's so ... unromantic!"
I smile wearily. "I know, but it's the only way I can think to reach him. I'm really worried about this guy."
"You are?" Alex raises an eyebrow, just visible under his messy locks.
"Didn't she tell you about the diary?" Vanessa says, with an exasperated tone.
"I need to talk to him, if I can." I rub my tired eyes.
Thank God I don't wear mascara I'd be a real mess by now.
Vanessa puts a hand on my arm. "Seriously, Harlow, maybe you should calm down about this whole thing."
"Yeah, 'Nessa's right. Give the bag to me, I'll take it to lost and found for you. You should just forget about all this."
We've reached our lockers and I stop and stare, struck totally dumb.
"What's that?" Vanessa frowns.
Something is taped to my locker: a piece of notepaper. I walk up to it and graze the paper with my fingertips. "This is mine! It's my chem notes."
"That's super creepy!" Alex says while Vanessa pokes her head around me to get a better look.
In bright red ink and thick bold letters right over my carefully written notes is scrawled:
I HAVE YOUR BAG, HARLOW RILEY
FIND ME OR I'LL SEND IT BACK TO YOU.
PIECE BY PIECE!
It ends with a smiley face with crosses for eyes.
I scowl. "What's this supposed to mean?"
"I think it's fairly clear!" Alex says, shaking his head with derision.
"This is so perfect!!" Vanessa exclaims.
Both Alex and I look at her like she's crazy.
"Don't you get it?! It's so romantic! Like an Easter egg hunt or a treasure map!"
I contort my features into a skeptical expression. "I really don't want him to shred up my stuff and draw on it!"
"Nooo, don't be silly it's like a cute, little joke."
"That's stupid." Alex says, angry. "Give me the bag, Harlow. This needs to end now."
I move away from his outstretched hand. "No way! Not if he's ransoming my stuff! Cute or not I need to find him before he tears right through my scholarship."
"You can have my notes!" Alex replies with frustration.
"Why do you care so much?" I'm starting to lose my temper.
"Why do you care? He's just some boy! You don't even know who he is! This has turned into some stupid game and you're the only one who's going to get hurt."
"I don't care if it is a game, I need to find him!"
"Why?"
"Just leave it ok!" I grab the note off the locker, leaving the edges still stuck there with the tape.
"No, I want to know why this is so important to you!"
"Because if something happens to him and I could've saved him I couldn't stand it, alright?!" I shout.
People in the hallway all stop and stare at us.
Everything has gone deathly quiet.
I turn red, then push past a stunned Alex and head to class before the bell even sounds.
"You're an idiot." Vanessa says to Alex as I walk away.
"Why?" Alex turns to her, his voice lowered.
Vanessa sighs. "You obviously don't know about her Dad, do you?"
I don't want to hear it.
I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to talk about him. I walk faster and faster and don't stop until they are far out of hearing.