Jenny Was a Friend of Mine

Was it illegal to just plan a murder?

I wanted to kill Andrew Long. I had the image in my head--a brutal stabbing, leaving the evidence everywhere. I would write my name in blood on the wall.

I'm not a monster, I'm just a sick man.

Following in Jenny's footsteps, I stayed home on January 6, the dreaded back-to-school day. Mom was fine with it, surprisingly. Dad had come home for Christmas, then planted himself working double shifts at the office again. She left me a list of chores and errands to be done by the time she got home at 7 PM.

I made myself toast with honey for breakfast and set out to look for Jenny again. The police was looking for her, and I was their secret help. They didn't even know I was helping them, I was so secret. My plan that day was to go talk to Jenny's mom, sneak in Jenny's room, and search her diaries. It sounded like something an uptight parent would do, but I would do anything to get my girl back.

It was almost like my car had memorized its path to Jenny's house, like grooves had been worn into the asphalt. It was almost weird passing my all the landmarks I memorized. I brought in a box of doughnuts and a Frappucino for Mrs. Robertson, chatted with her to make sure everything was okay, then asked for permission to go to Jenny's room.

"Why..?" she asked.

"Well, her teachers need me to look for her work, just so they can make sure her grades are caught up. You know."

"Oh. Yes dear. You remember where it is."

I nodded, then climbed up the stairs. My feet had run up and down these stairs for years, but they were never supporting this sad of a body. It hurt to even be here, with all these memories, all these secrets in the walls. My hands felt dirty for even touching her hiding place: the trunk at the foot of her bed. The top lifted easily. A few notebooks, a junk food stash, and three diaries lay at the top of her pile. I lifted out the notebooks and diaries and arranged them in a circle around me.

The yellow notebook was first. I flipped through, but only found doodles and half-finished poems and songs. The same was found in the other notebooks. I read two of her diaries, which were too old for Andrew to even be mentioned. The third diary held the jackpot.

November 29
I just bought this diary, not even a few hours ago, and I already need to write. Andrew is getting scarier, day by day. He threatens me and pulls my hair and doesn't seem to be satisfied unless I'm crying.
Taylor keeps butting in. I know she wants to help....

Too old, I told myself. I knew it wasn't, but it was too painful to read.

December 30
Andrew bought me lots of presents for Christmas. I gave him everything I bought, all wrapped up in bows and fancy wrapping paper. He says he is going to take me on a trip.

December 31
Andrew just called me, and he is on his way to pick me up. I am so excited! He said he is going to take me to Oak Lake and we are going to stay until we're sick of the place. I love Andrew so much.

That was the last entry. I threw everything back in the trunk and flew downstairs to Jenny's mom.

"Oh my God, oh my God, I know where she is!" I shrieked.

"Taylor! Calm down, what happened?"

"I read her diary. I'm sorry, but I had to. She said she was on her way to Oak Lake with Andrew on New Year's Eve, oh my God, oh my GOD!"

No matter how hard she tried to calm me down, I saw the panic in her eyes, which only made me freak out more. We got in her car and set off for Oak Lake.

Ms. Robertson's fingers gripped the steering wheel until both her hands were a sheer white. Her foot rested on the gas pedal like her foot was made of lead. I silently prayed no one would pull us over.

We didn't stop to eat or use the bathroom. We didn't even call the police until we arrived at Oak Lake.

"Ms. Robertson, I think that's the cabin they probably stayed at." I pointed to a small cabin off to the right and stared. A sign that said "Long Cabin" was planted in the ground.

Ms. Robertson turned off the car and got out. "Come on," she whispered fiercely. I followed her to the quaint, but dark cabin.

The door was locked, and there was no spare key hiding under any welcome mat or porch figurine. The only thing we could do was wait, wait, and wait. The only thing on my mind was Jenny. I wondered if she was okay, where she could be, if she was alive. And then I started to sing her favorite song.

"Read me the letter, baby, do not leave out the words. Stories and cigarettes ruined lives of lesser girls, and I wanna know, 'cause I want you to know," I sang softly. "And it's a strange condition. A day in prison. It's got me out of my head and I don't know what I came for..."

As I sang, I could almost hear her hum along. I squeezed my eyes shut and dreamed of her kisses and her hugs and her voice and her, and my world, and my world was her.

I skipped to a later part of the song, but changed the lyrics.

"I'll leave out the others Jenny, please be my only one..."