• The follwoing links are links to prior chapters in this selection:

    Part 1 Prologue

    Part 1 Ch. 1

    Part 1 Ch. 2

    Part 1 Ch. 3

    Part 1 Ch. 4

    Part 1 Ch. 5

    Part 1 Ch. 6

    Part 1 Ch. 7







    Due to my substantial change in attitude, in the end, I did not go to boot camp, so the very next day, I woke feeling grand as ever...in my own bed. It was odd, hating everyone one day, hating yourself the next, and then feeling as though you could just...just give the whole world one big, large bear hug!

    Ok, that was an expression. Did not intend it that way.

    Anyway, I even combed my hair back that day, which, let me tell you, completely changed my looks, but, of course, I didn't care. I actually took in high esteem that my hair wasn't dangling over my eyes, which made me look like your stereotypical emo. Not the kind of impression I wanted. Not anymore, at least.

    I raced downstairs, ready to hug my mom, and ready to dial Mary's number to tell her how sorry I was.

    But, it struck me very strange when I came down, and found my mom sobbing over the table, her face buried in her hands. I walked up to her, touched her shoulder lightly, and she recoiled backwards, along with her chair, with a jump.

    "Mom!" I exclaimed. "What is wrong?" She got up, rushed over to me, and hugged me, her eyes red with tears and her mouth quivering with remorse. The she whispered,

    "Oh, Tom...Tom..." She sat back down in a clump, and wailed, "I'm so sorry to tell you this. I--I know you two were starting to get along. But Mary...Mary Archibald...she's dead. She shot herself."

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    For the second time in my life, I was left speechless and thoughtless.

    "You're lying," I suddenly said darkly. She poked her face through her two hands that were covering it, and whimpered,

    "Tom, why would I--"

    "You're lying!" She turned around to the message box, and pressed the button. Suddenly, Mary's mom's voice reverberated across the room,

    Mrs. Jacobs...I'm afraid--I'm afraid I have very bad news. My daughter, your son's partner for the project, is dead. She paused and sniffled, then continued, After we had dropped off the science project at school, we left to our house. I left Mary there as I went to K-Mart...but when I came back...she had--she had shot herself in the head. She hesitated again, took a deep breath, and continued with a raspy voice, It's hard to explain why I'm leaving this message to you in particular. I never really liked your son... I flinched. No one really did. I had earned a reputation. I continued to listen, but I know my daughter did. My daughter had the forgiveness skills I had never had, the patience that I would never learn. And there are so many things I wish I couls take back that I said to her... She took a deep breath, and finished, I'm sorry. I--This is just so difficult. She was so kind and considerate, I would've never supposed she would do this to herself. I--I need to go now. Good bye, Mrs. Jacobs. The message ended, and my mom's head turned to me, her face still looking pouty as ever.

    "Tom, I'm so sorry..." I didn't say anything. I just stumbled back towards the door, got on my shoes, and ran out, hearing my mom behind me,

    "Where are you going?" I didn't answer. I just kept running.

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    For some reason, even though I had only been to her house once, the location of Mary's house was still very clear in my mind. I suppose that's what happens when adreneline kicks into your system.

    It took nearly an hour of literally non stop running until I finally reached her house. Yellow caution lines were posted all around the circumfrance of the house, but it didn't stop me from ducking under it and rushing towards the house. A policeman called,

    "Hey! This is a crime scene!" I just kept running towards the house, as I replied without turning back.

    "And it also my friend's house!" and more quietly, "My only friend..."

    The doors had been left open and I flew upstairs into Mary's room. I wasn't sure what I was doing, but whatever I was doing, I had to do it quick, because I'm sure there were going to be policeman on my tail as well as Mrs. Archibald.

    I glanced around the room, and there was only one thing that caught my eye:

    Her bedazzled diary lying on her bed.

    I quickly picked it up, but debated on whether I should read it or not. It was private after all, but with a reluctant, quivering hand, I unwillingly opened it anyway, and started to read.


    END OF PART 1