Author's note: This isn't the complete book, but I am too excited to wait until it's done to submit it! Be prepared, it's intense.
The Devil comes to Town“Hey sis!” I heard my brother call. I stuffed my journal into the bottom of my bag and ran down the bleachers. “Todd’s coming over tonight. K?” THE Todd? My only best friend who totally ignores me now? That Todd? Yes, that Todd, he was walking out of the locker room, waving at Joe.
“Sure.” I mumbled and turned in the opposite direction of Todd. How did this happen again? How did Todd become JOE’S best friend? Todd was the only other person who I told what was going on with my dad. I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I wanted to scream! I walked a few paces behind my brother and Todd. Looking at their feet.
I crawled in the small back seat of the truck and got my journal back out, drawing a sad representation of Mr. Sample’s tree. When we got home, my mother was still at work and Joe when to the living room and got out his Xbox, a totally useless thing that sucks your time and turns your brain to mush, I made popcorn, that popcorn soon become Joe’s popcorn, but whatever, I was watching my weight anyway.
When mom came home, Todd was still here and I had found it to be safer in my room. I did my daily routine, wash face and brush teeth, big whoop, and listened to my iPod until I fell asleep, I already did my homework.
The next morning I get up early to take a shower and do my hair, something I found I needed to do to keep sane: I had to look perfect. Joe was already out in the car, I ran out to meet him.
“I was gunna leave you!” He says. I turn on my iPod.
I sit through another boring day; I consider skipping Art but Mr. Sample catches up with me in the halls.
“Do you think it would be okay if I told everyone you wrote that poem? You were right; it was unfair of me to not praise it like I did the others. I’m sorry.”
“No.” I say, and turn to go to his class.
He keeps his word and only talks about how to paint with oil paints, boring. I leave directly after his class and watch the football team practice. Then it hits me: it’s Friday. Not that it really matters but Joe will probably have some jock spend the night. Yuck.
Joe lets me drive home, that’s cool. I see HIS car in the driveway and I turn the truck around without a word.
“What? What… where are we going?” Joe turns around in his seat and sees HIS car. “Oh. But mom was home, and I’m here, he probably won’t stay. Hey, come on, he won’t do anything.” I shut him up with a glare. He’s probably right. HE won’t do it again with a varsity football player around. I turn the car around again and pull into the driveway. Joe takes my book-bag inside and walks me to my room. I hear HIM in the living room with my mom. She sounds frazzled and nervous, an in-love kind of nervous, she never knew the monster HE was. I find myself crying and Joe stays in my room.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. He’s gunna leave. Shhh…” He takes me in his arms and I cry, soaking his shirt with salty tears. He’s the best brother ever. There’s a knock on the door and I jump.
“I know you’re both in there.” My mother’s voice calls from behind the door. “Come look who’s come back.” She giggles.
“Hey, kids! Daddy’s home!” I hear HIS voice. I shake with sobs.
“Just get out of here you animal!” Joe yells. I’m even a little scared.
“Joseph! Don’t talk to your father like that!” My mother says, startled.
“It’s okay Miranda. Can we just talk about it? Jenna.” HE says in his cooing voice. I scream. “Jenna, I’m so sorry. I was… in some trouble but I’m better now! Honest! Please, give me another chance.”
“No. Mother. Please make him leave.” I say in the firmest voice I can muster.
“But… Jenna? What’s going on? Ralf?”
“I should go. I got you the car you always wanted Jenna. Keep it.” HE says.
“You cannot bribe me. Now GET THE HELL OUT!” I scream and run to the door, coming face to face with HIM. HE takes a step forward and I slam the door again. Joe is staring at me with wide eyes. “I’m okay now, thank you.” I say calmly. He blinks.
I hear HIS voice outside and I look down at him from my window. HE looks up and waves, I glare. The minute he leaves I run downstairs and find my car in the garage. How did HE get it in here? It’s a 2011 Ford Mustang, dark grey with light grey stripes. Dude. But I still can’t forgive him. Not until he goes to jail for what he did to me.
“Whoa. This is one awesome car.” Joe runs his hand over it. I smile. It feels funny. I don’t understand why. It’s because it feels natural. “You wanna’ take it for a spin?” He says and grabs the keys off the dash.
“Yes.” I say still smiling. He throws me the keys; I catch them and climb in. I run my hand over the steering wheel and breathe in the new car smell. No smoke smell like in the other cars. I love it.
“Where are we gunna go?” I shrug and back out. I drive to The Ridge, as Joe and I call it. It’s an overhang that you can park at and look out over our whole town in northern California; you can almost see the coast.