Help Me, Allisen M [best books to read fiction .txt] 📗

I walked into my gram Ella's and stomped up the stairs. She wasn't home. I dropped on my bed and nodded off into a daze. I woke with a jolt as I was hit in the head with a book. I jumped, fists at ready, to slam whoever threw it at me. But no one was there.
I picked it up, and in ancient scrawl it was titled, “DKJ DO NOT TOUCH!”
I thought maybe it was a trick, a sick joke. Then I picked up the book.

I had no idea that with a touch of my fingers, my life would change forever.

“Jenna! Are you up there?” Ella called to me, and I groaned.
“Right here, Ella. Unpacking, be down in a sec.” I whipped into my suitcase, and put the journal in my secret place, beneath my floor boards.
As I hesitated at the top of the stairway, I wondered what was in that book. I told myself that it's just some old journal, with no meaning. I was scared of what might be in it. The initials, they were tugging on the strings in my mind. D, K, J. Who is that? What does it mean?
“Jenna, are you sure you're alright?”
“I'm fine!” I shouted, a little too loudly. Ella did not bother me again. I walked back into my room. I took my time, trying to organize my socks, but they were too mismatched, and it was a sad way to get away from Ella. So I started down the stairs.
“ There you are! How you have grown, my goodness. Your hair! What have you done to it!?!”
Ella gasped and almost fell over.
“What, are my highlights uneven? Or is it the cut? It isn't all that bad. It is the hip thing now, like perms. You know?” I added. I knew she meant how my hair had been so long, and it was oh so beautiful, blah blah blah.
“Why would you do such a thing? I can not believe that you did that! You are not allowed to cut, color, or critique your hair this year, do you understand?!”
“ Whatever you say, Ella.” I passed off our conversation and headed to my room. I trudged up the stairs, not wanting to ever come back down. I thought about sneaking out, but realized that in this small, middle of no where, no sense of fashion, every one knows your business town, I'd stand out so I dismissed that notion of escape.
As I lay on my bed I silently cursed my parents, shipping me here while they go to Africa. I can still hear mom in my head, “We need a break, and you know Ella would love to see you. It's only a little while, you can do that for me, right?” I had replied, “ I should be able to stay on my own, I'm SEVENTEEN! I can take care of myself.” Then she said something about there being no choice, it was decided, but I hadn't been listening, and as I replay it in my head, I wished I had listened a little better. I wasn't sure why, but I wish I could see her, my mom, and usually I don't miss her this much. I felt a tear on my cheek.
“Jenna, wake up sweet heart,...” I hadn't realized I had fallen into a hazy sleep. I woke with a start, only to stare into Ella's worried face. I didn't know what time it was, and I glanced out the window with a gasp. The sun stared me in the face, high and bright in the sky.
“What time is it?” I spluttered it out and my throat was screaming for liquids.
“It's eight thirty, I thought that you might want to do some school shopping while I'm in the city. I can come, or you can go alone. What do you prefer?”
“ I would like for you to come, only if you can, I wouldn't want to take out of your plans for the day.” What was I saying?!
“ Maybe you will meet some nice kids, I'll leave you to it then. We'll leave in two hours. You know where everything is.” She looked patient, and reproachful.
“ Alright, I'll be ready, I just need to shower, and do my makeup.”
“ I left some breakfast on the table, nothing fancy, thought you might be hungry.” As she said it, I realized that she most likely went over board on breakfast, and I sighed.
“ Ella, do you mind if I just explore a little today? I will shop a little, but I haven't a clue on the layout of the,.. um.. town.”
“ Sure, I'll leave you alone then.” She left my room regretfully.
“ Kay.” I wasn't even listening. She left, and I walked over to the ancient dresser, technically a wardrobe, and opened it up.
I stopped short. The old, weathered journal was sitting on my shoes. What game was Ella playing? Well, it doesn't matter because it is going to end. Now. Today.
I put it on my dresser and got my clothes. I went across the hall to take a shower in the claw foot tub. The feet were those of a lions, and it was the best part of the house. At least that is what I thought. I got in the shower, and just enjoyed the almost boiling-hot water. It was the first time in months that I had a super hot shower.
When I got out and was dressed, I did my hair. I reached under the sink for my big make up bag. I opened it up and pulled out my eye liner and mascara. After putting that on, I reached for my blush. I gasped loudly. The journal was sitting in the bottom of the bright pink bag. I felt the inside's black lining and stared in horror at what I brought out with my left hand. The journal sat in my palm, and I dropped it.
It opened to a page that was labeled “ Jimmy.” I looked at it and couldn't help but wonder what it meant. I closed the book.
I took it in my room and found the page again. It said,
“ I thought I loved him, but I was very wrong. All he wanted was some one to court around, and show off. Daddy gave us money to do things, and he kept half of it. Daddy didn't believe me, until tonight. Daddy had asked what we were doing, and I told him that Jimmy and I were going to eat here, and then go stare at the stars. When Jimmy came, father asked him how much money he had with him. He told my father that he brought none, and neither Jimmy nor myself knew what father wanted. So I took the dollar from father, and Jimmy and I went to get dinner. It ended up that we got ice cream, and he kept the other 45cents.
When we got back,he asked what we had eaten, because I said I wanted a snack, and Jimmy lied to him, saying that we had cheese burgers, French fries, and milk shakes. My father knew that that would take all the money we had, so then he asked him to go to the well, and bring out some coins. Jimmy did, and after he set them down father said, 'Have you stolen from me, young boy? I can see the bulge in your pocket.' I said that he hadn't, he had lied about dinner, and that all we had were ice cream cones. I will never see Jimmy again, but I do not care.

Love, Delilah Kennedy Jones

Whoa. I can not believe I just read on ancient, Romeo-Juliet love story. Ms. Camry would love this. So her name is Delilah, thats cool. I thought about it, and decided to go to the library today.
I headed down stairs, and found a full fledged breakfast. More like a break-feast. Pancakes, eggs, toast, sausage, and orange juice. I piled a plate full and sat down to the best breakfast I had ever had. How she had found out my favorite foods, I do not know. But I was thankful, because mom never did this. Ever. Not even on my birthday.
“Ella? Are you here?” I searched around, and found a note taped to the front door. It read,
“Jenna,
Sorry I left, but you were in
the shower, so I decided you
could wander and take a look
around town, and I will
leave you money
tomorrow morning. Have
a good day sweetie,
Ella”
I started out to the library, and as I walked in the doors a bell jingled, announcing my arrival. The only things in the room were the books on their shelves, and a lone librarian at her worn, old desk.
She looked at me over her big rimmed glasses, and went back to her book.
“Do you have anything on the history of this place, like who used to live here, who died, stuff like that?”
“ Yea, down there.” She pointed to a section at the back. I started towards it, then remembered my manners.
“Thanks.” I didn't know what else to say.
“Whatever.” I thought she was a bit rude, but I didn't say so.
Once in the back, I took out death records, and old address's. I skipped the ones from hundreds of years ago, and started with the last hundred years of records. Then I looked for addresses. Here we go, I thought. Looking through them, I found what I wanted at about eighty nine years ago.
Her name was Delilah Kennedy Jones. She was sixteen when she was attacked though no one was convicted of the crime, and disappeared two days after her seventeenth birthday. No one ever found any evidence except a piece of her night gown hanging on a bush outside her bedroom window. I gasped as I read the last sentence. She lived in the third house on Latter Lane, in the only upstairs room. That is my room! OMG! I slammed the papers down and ran out of the library. As I ran out, I heard a muffled, still snotty, “Bye!”
I didn't know where to go, so I just ran, and then slowed until I was walking down the street. I looked around, and my surroundings were familiar. It was like the ghetto. There were junky cars everywhere, people in ratty, ripped, or too tight clothing. Kids running around in shoes that were way too big, or way too small.


To be continued.....

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