Faith Will Find a Way

"Farrah, it's not here. My writing journal is not here." Vero said frantically into the receiver.

"What do you mean it's not there? You always have it on you. It's probably just hidden under that mountain of shit you have in your room." Farrah reasoned.

"Hey. That 'mountain of shit' is important shit. And I already tore my room apart looking for it. It's not here." Vero dropped onto her squeaky bed in defeat.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to tell you." Farrah sounded defeated as well.

Vero sighed. "I'll keep looking. I was going to bring it for the boys to sign. But whatever. I'll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early."

After hanging up the phone, Vero made one more attempt at searching her messy room for her writing journal. It was nowhere.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Vero's grandma appeared in the doorway of her room. Ever since her grandmother sold her house, she moved in with Vero and her mom and brother.

"I'm just... I'm looking for something, Grandma." Vero pushed her grandmother's presence aside and kept throwing clothes over her back in search of her writing journal.

"What are you looking for?" Her grandmother entered through the door way and started picking up stray clothes off the floor and folding them.

"Grandma, you don't have to do that. Besides, it's bad for your back anyway." Vero took the few shirts from her grandma and threw them onto her big, black saucer chair.

"Come sit with me." Her grandmother sat down on Vero's bed and Vero sat down next to her. "Why don't you want me to know what you're looking for?"

Vero looked down at the floor. "I was looking for my writing journal."

Vero's mother had never approved of creative writing in any form. Vero's father had been a writer himself, and left her and her mother right after Vero's brother was conceived. Vero's father didn't even wait until the boy was born. Ever since he left, Vero's mother had such hostility against writers. Now, she wasn't sure how her grandmother would react.

"Well, it has to be around here somewhere." Her grandma said, beginning to stand.

"Grandma?" Vero stopped her grandmother from standing. She took a deep breath. "I want to be a writer, grandma. Like Dad was."

Her grandmother sat there in a thoughtful silence. "Listen, honey. Don't you take anyone's bullshit, okay? You want to be a writer? Be a writer. Don't take any of your mother's bullshit, don't take any of my bullshit, hell don't listen to anything I say. I'm seventy-six years old. I don't know where I am half the time."

Vero laughed a little at her grandmother's words. "Thanks, Grandma."

"Now," Her grandma stood up. "Let's look for that writing journal of yours."



She ran, faster and faster
Trying to escape the ugly plastered on her face.
But no matter how fast she ran,
She could never escape the horror.

The wood was dark and damp.
The trees stalked over her
Threatening
Intrusive

The roots in the ground tripped and prodded her
And as she glared up at the sky
Even the moon laughed at her horrible shame

The voices grew louder as their owners became closer
She could see the faint light of the fires ablaze
And soon, her horrible shame would die
Along with her.

Andy put the flower patterned book down and processed everything he had just read. He didn't know who the book belonged to. He just found it in his bunk. He flipped through some more pages and saw a name at the back of the book in small, neat letters.

Vero

It belonged to that mystifying girl he had met months ago. She ran into him outside the venue and when their car wouldn't start, he let her and her friend stay in the bus with them. Yes, he remembered her. She was one who was hard to forget.

He flipped back through the pages and saw in big capital letters 'NOT FINISHED' at the top of one of the pages. Beneath that was written 'We Can Leave It All Behind (Andy story based on dream)'

Of course his curiosity got the better of him and he began reading once again:

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped the navy blue towel around her slim body. She shook out her wet hair and wrung it out over the bathtub before grabbing her pile of clothes and making her way back down stairs to her room. Her mother wasn't home yet and she was glad. She really didn't want to deal with her right now. She walked through the living room and into the kitchen. As she passed by the glass sliding door, she almost didn't notice the face that was peeking in at her.

She screamed and jumped back, gripping the towel and tightening it around her body. She stared at the face looking in at her and realized the face belonged to Andy Biersack.