Sequel: Shoobies: Teens. Monsters. Drama. ›
Rory's Journal [Do Not Open]
July 10th, 2002
Hey, journal! Its Rory. Right now I'm 7. YAY! Everyone thinks I'm a girl for having a diary--but its not! Its A journal...Its different. Bradley bought me this as a present for saying he was my brother in public..SIGH... We went to our beach house today in Scotland with my best friend James Finigan. We're gonna be here a while. I'll give a better description of what happened to day--FULL detail! ;D
As I sat on my bed looking out the window, as I always did, I heard the sound of my brother's light footsteps coming down the hallway. Bradley burst in the door,
"Hey, Rory. Want to come with James and I to the beach for a nice stroll?" He asked, politely. I sat up and walked to him. Placing my hand on his shoulder in a sarcastic manner, I replied.
"Sure, but first, mummy said she wanted you to finish up my laundry." Bradley, as oblivious as always, nodded and was off.
"You just wait outside," He said, smiling and hopping downstairs, "I'll be RIGHT out!" He was almost out of my hearing range now, "Folding clothes is cool!" He shouted his last remark. I rolled my eyes at this, for he was ALWAYS saying that.
Marching proudly to the door, I approached my best friend James. We high-fived and laughed, because of course getting rid of Bradley was our favorite thing to do.
Now I could trail off into my conversation and hanging out with James--but I'd rather explain to you, as the reader of my diary---Uh, Journal-- about my life:
Bradley is my idiot-kid brother who is the most annoying child in history. As you've already seen, he is also too nice. And, of course, James is my best friend from London. Him and I get in trouble a lot...on purpose. And, reader, I also have a father and mother. Lets start with my witch-of-a-mother. Margaret Finley is her name. She is the worst parent anyone could ask for. She is hateful and bias. She loves Bradley because he actually tries to do things instead of 'mooching' like I do, as she's so very kindly pointed out. She also loves him because he thinks 'cleaning is cool'...NOW, the good stuff. My father--He..Is truly brilliant. He is all Scottish and nothing else. I believe he is the wisest man on earth. Wiser than Sacraties...or however its spelled. He actually loves me for who I am instead of wanting me to be someone I am not (as someone ELSE does, constantly) and he appreciates it. Plus, he's and astronaut...Well, astronomer, but same thing if you've got a proper good imagination, yeah?
Alright, I'll go back to after my stroll, I don't think you, as the reader, would like to walk with James and I on our stroll.
Waving farewell to James and throwing my sandals on, I rushed down to the starry waters of Scotland. At night, it looked as if the heavens fell down into the ground and shone brighter than ever. It was only the reflection in the calm sea--but still, I had imagination, remember?
As I stood there, gazing at the Celestial beauty, I remembered my father's one place to concentrate--down at the pier. I sprinted to my father as fast as my short legs could carry me and plopped right next to him. My father must've been so caught up in his stargazing that he had no clue I was there.
"Daddy!" I cried, chuckling a little at his ignorance. Upon hearing my small voice, he turned away from his telescope and smiled at me.
"'Ello, wee lad! What trouble didja ge' inta today, eh?" He said. I laughed a bit at his heavy Scottish accent,
"Not really anything...Except the usual teasing the wits outta Bradley, that is, if he had any in the first place." I chuckled at my own joke, but stopped realizing I was alone. Father shook his head at me and clicked his mouth in a manner meaning 'Shame on you.' He clasped his strong hand on my shoulder and gazed into my eyes, contently.
"Ror, y'know what I said about bein' rude to people, right?" His voice getting louder as he spoke. I rolled my eyes and began restating his routine rule.
"Never make fun of anyone for who they are, because one day, it'll all come back to you." We said together.
"But how is that possible?" I interrupted, confused. "Its not like a ball being rolled all the way across the world and eventually ending up behind my back....right?" He laughed a little and sat down next to me.
"Well, sonny, no. Words aren't objects..but words can be stronger than anything--and...if you're wise--sharper as well. Whats really the problem about words....its not always the same person you bullied who will give in and throw it back--" He looked back up at the heavens, his stare long and intimate. So long, I couldn't keep myself from following his stare and looking up as well. "--Even if it is only you, Bradley and Jimmy who hear the words, there is SOMEONE ELSE...who will ALWAYS know what you said. And you can't dodge the wrath of God, now, can ya?" I shook my head violently, as if it was an obvious no. "Well then! There ya have it! Actions will ALWAYS..have consequences. Never forget that and one day, YOU will be the wisest man on earth." He ruffled my spiky hair, messing it up a bit. "Now get your smart-mouth butt ta bed!" He continued, with me laughing. "Its almost mornin', ya crazy party animal, you!" I laughed and ran off the pier to my house, restating every word that was said to me over again in my head.
As I layed back on my bed this night, I attempted to fall asleep. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw every terrifying thing in the world...also, my brother couldn't stop snoring...I know it runs in the family (and I am the LOUDEST snorer) but this time, since his nose was stuffed, it was as loud as the thunderstorms in the prairies back home. Finally, I closed my eyes and imagined (as I did a lot) my father's sweet face as if he was talking to me...And soon after, I fell asleep, ONLY to be awakened by a loud noise. I jumped up out of my bed and starting hyperventilating. Peering around the room, I found that Bradley was gone!
"BRADLEY!" I cried and afterward heard a few screams coming from the kitchen. I turned towards a bright light coming from outside my window and saw the whole outside bursting into flames. An enormous black van was parked outside my window and a group of men wearing black and carrying guns were spilling out of it, one by one. I watched as each one passed right in front of me through the glass, my jaw-dropped and my eyes widened. Finally, the last of the 15 (as I counted) hopped out, cocked his gun and smirked. His disgusting smirk was strange, for all his teeth were golden. I puffed up with anger while looking at him, but it soon turned to fear when he unexpectedly shot his glance at the window and saw me. I ducked behind the wall and began breathing deeply, just knowing that he was still looking in. This moment felt as if it could have lasted forever. Feeling the eyes peering in the window, every second getting closerer to seeing my in the corner of the glass kept bugging me. Eventually, I heard a loud huff and a shout of the name 'Scott', and the man was off. The moment ended and I sighed with relief. All of these moments of terrifying events felt as if they would never end. I stood as still as a statue, not knowing how to react when the door was to be opened by the scary enormous man.
"RORY!" Bradley shouted from inside the closet. "Get in here! He saw you!" A rush of relief came over me as he rushed to me and yanked my pajama collar, pulling me inside the small, uncomfortable area.
"BRADL--" I began to shout out to him as he slammed the door shut, but he slapped a hand over my mouth and put his small finger to his lips.
"Rory..." He whispered. "Be as quiet as you can..." I nodded, my eyes tearing up, for I didn't know what was going on. Immediately after I nodded, the front door to our room was kicked down and in walked the man with the golden teeth (as I saw through the cracks in the closet's door). I could feel Brad's weak small body shaking with fright right next to mine. I tried to calm him down, for his shaking was making the clothes hanging up in the closet shuffle around and make noise. He reached his small hand out and grasped my wrist, I did the same with my other hand and we stood as still as we could. The terror rushed over us like a unstoppable wave to a small boat as we watched the man stomp around in our room. My heart was beating louder than anything in the room. It felt as if everyone could hear it, but I suppose it was only me.
"Sco'ie boy!" The man said with a gruff strange voice. "Where are you?" His dirty Irish accent was almost as terrifying as his AK-47 in his large hands. My heart was so loud that when interrupted by his loud voice, I accidentally knocked into the hanger behind me, making it slam against the other metal hangers. The loud noise obviously didn't go unnoticed.. The man smiled yet again and crept to the closet door. Bradley, still shaking, began to pray quietly next to me as he reached his hand out to one of the knobs. Just as he was ready to pull it to the side and open it, a voice, strong and brave, came from the front door.
"I'm here, Torad." Father said to the man with the golden teeth. Torad, apparently being the evil man's name, turned to my father and gave him one last grin.
"Good man.." He said, gruffly. My eyes began to widen at the scene before me...Torad lifted his gun up in the air. As he did this, my heart sank to my feet, the look in my father's eyes was hard to determine. He lifted his eyes to Torad, and without any hesitation, the moment before the gun slammed to his head, he stated something in a tone so truthful I didn't know what to think.
"I forgive you." His last words were before meeting unconsciousness. Now it changed. Everything was different. Before, he was threatening our lives, and now, he threatened my father's. This needed to end. Confused, angry and terrified in one feeling I burst out of the closet,
"NO!" I shouted and tried to make my way to my father. Bradley, in a terrified scramble to save MY life at least, snatched the back of my shirt. "CAN IT BLOCKHEAD!" I responded to his act of kindness with a shove and stomped up to the now unconscious man, my father. I grabbed up his hand and my eyes filled with tears.
"Back off, li'l lad!" The revolting man called to me as he put his hand around the top of my head and thrust me back, leaving me on the ground. My eyes slowly lifted to this monster. As soon as the man dragged the bloody Scott Finley out the door, I felt something I've never felt before. More than anger, more than hatred. I knew that I needed to give his action consequences..I knew I needed to find this man...and slaughter him. At the age of seven, no one would ever expect this out of you, but when the one thing that matters to you is messed with, you're mindset can rush into a million different directions. Torad slung him in the back of their van as I sat, helpless, on the floor in a puddle of my own tears. With one last miracle, I heard the sound of my father's voice coming from outside. I wiped my eyes and pushed the window up with all my might to hear him.
"FATHER!" I cried, happy to see him conscious again. My father was being pulled back to the van in a struggle. It appeared to be that he attempted to escape, but was stopped by the men. "Let Bradley protect you! Remember everything I said." He was about to shout one last thing to me when the van doors slammed on his face and the car was off. I sat at the window, confused. Why was it him? Why did they take the best thing in my life away?...
"BOYS!" My mother's voice called from behind me. Both Bradley and I turned to her as she stood in the doorway. I wondered where she was during the ordeal. It seemed as if she was sitting back and watching all this happen. Disregarding my evil thoughts, I followed Bradley as he ran into her arms and hugged her. "Boys...never speak of this again..okay?" She said to us. Her voice cracked in a way that was not fear nor anger...almost...pleasure?She acted like nothing had just happened. Like perhaps we lost one of our baseball games. I scrunched up my face in a pouty way (As I usually did) and let go of her.
"You're an evil, disgusting woman!" I burst out. "I hate you!" Stomping my foot, I ran back to the window and looked at the pier. Father's telescope was still there...left alone, never to be used again. What was I to do without my father?...How was I supposed to cope?..Finally, the end of my day, I fell asleep...
-Bye Diary/Journal-
Rory Scott Finley, Age 7
As I sat on my bed looking out the window, as I always did, I heard the sound of my brother's light footsteps coming down the hallway. Bradley burst in the door,
"Hey, Rory. Want to come with James and I to the beach for a nice stroll?" He asked, politely. I sat up and walked to him. Placing my hand on his shoulder in a sarcastic manner, I replied.
"Sure, but first, mummy said she wanted you to finish up my laundry." Bradley, as oblivious as always, nodded and was off.
"You just wait outside," He said, smiling and hopping downstairs, "I'll be RIGHT out!" He was almost out of my hearing range now, "Folding clothes is cool!" He shouted his last remark. I rolled my eyes at this, for he was ALWAYS saying that.
Marching proudly to the door, I approached my best friend James. We high-fived and laughed, because of course getting rid of Bradley was our favorite thing to do.
Now I could trail off into my conversation and hanging out with James--but I'd rather explain to you, as the reader of my diary---Uh, Journal-- about my life:
Bradley is my idiot-kid brother who is the most annoying child in history. As you've already seen, he is also too nice. And, of course, James is my best friend from London. Him and I get in trouble a lot...on purpose. And, reader, I also have a father and mother. Lets start with my witch-of-a-mother. Margaret Finley is her name. She is the worst parent anyone could ask for. She is hateful and bias. She loves Bradley because he actually tries to do things instead of 'mooching' like I do, as she's so very kindly pointed out. She also loves him because he thinks 'cleaning is cool'...NOW, the good stuff. My father--He..Is truly brilliant. He is all Scottish and nothing else. I believe he is the wisest man on earth. Wiser than Sacraties...or however its spelled. He actually loves me for who I am instead of wanting me to be someone I am not (as someone ELSE does, constantly) and he appreciates it. Plus, he's and astronaut...Well, astronomer, but same thing if you've got a proper good imagination, yeah?
Alright, I'll go back to after my stroll, I don't think you, as the reader, would like to walk with James and I on our stroll.
Waving farewell to James and throwing my sandals on, I rushed down to the starry waters of Scotland. At night, it looked as if the heavens fell down into the ground and shone brighter than ever. It was only the reflection in the calm sea--but still, I had imagination, remember?
As I stood there, gazing at the Celestial beauty, I remembered my father's one place to concentrate--down at the pier. I sprinted to my father as fast as my short legs could carry me and plopped right next to him. My father must've been so caught up in his stargazing that he had no clue I was there.
"Daddy!" I cried, chuckling a little at his ignorance. Upon hearing my small voice, he turned away from his telescope and smiled at me.
"'Ello, wee lad! What trouble didja ge' inta today, eh?" He said. I laughed a bit at his heavy Scottish accent,
"Not really anything...Except the usual teasing the wits outta Bradley, that is, if he had any in the first place." I chuckled at my own joke, but stopped realizing I was alone. Father shook his head at me and clicked his mouth in a manner meaning 'Shame on you.' He clasped his strong hand on my shoulder and gazed into my eyes, contently.
"Ror, y'know what I said about bein' rude to people, right?" His voice getting louder as he spoke. I rolled my eyes and began restating his routine rule.
"Never make fun of anyone for who they are, because one day, it'll all come back to you." We said together.
"But how is that possible?" I interrupted, confused. "Its not like a ball being rolled all the way across the world and eventually ending up behind my back....right?" He laughed a little and sat down next to me.
"Well, sonny, no. Words aren't objects..but words can be stronger than anything--and...if you're wise--sharper as well. Whats really the problem about words....its not always the same person you bullied who will give in and throw it back--" He looked back up at the heavens, his stare long and intimate. So long, I couldn't keep myself from following his stare and looking up as well. "--Even if it is only you, Bradley and Jimmy who hear the words, there is SOMEONE ELSE...who will ALWAYS know what you said. And you can't dodge the wrath of God, now, can ya?" I shook my head violently, as if it was an obvious no. "Well then! There ya have it! Actions will ALWAYS..have consequences. Never forget that and one day, YOU will be the wisest man on earth." He ruffled my spiky hair, messing it up a bit. "Now get your smart-mouth butt ta bed!" He continued, with me laughing. "Its almost mornin', ya crazy party animal, you!" I laughed and ran off the pier to my house, restating every word that was said to me over again in my head.
As I layed back on my bed this night, I attempted to fall asleep. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw every terrifying thing in the world...also, my brother couldn't stop snoring...I know it runs in the family (and I am the LOUDEST snorer) but this time, since his nose was stuffed, it was as loud as the thunderstorms in the prairies back home. Finally, I closed my eyes and imagined (as I did a lot) my father's sweet face as if he was talking to me...And soon after, I fell asleep, ONLY to be awakened by a loud noise. I jumped up out of my bed and starting hyperventilating. Peering around the room, I found that Bradley was gone!
"BRADLEY!" I cried and afterward heard a few screams coming from the kitchen. I turned towards a bright light coming from outside my window and saw the whole outside bursting into flames. An enormous black van was parked outside my window and a group of men wearing black and carrying guns were spilling out of it, one by one. I watched as each one passed right in front of me through the glass, my jaw-dropped and my eyes widened. Finally, the last of the 15 (as I counted) hopped out, cocked his gun and smirked. His disgusting smirk was strange, for all his teeth were golden. I puffed up with anger while looking at him, but it soon turned to fear when he unexpectedly shot his glance at the window and saw me. I ducked behind the wall and began breathing deeply, just knowing that he was still looking in. This moment felt as if it could have lasted forever. Feeling the eyes peering in the window, every second getting closerer to seeing my in the corner of the glass kept bugging me. Eventually, I heard a loud huff and a shout of the name 'Scott', and the man was off. The moment ended and I sighed with relief. All of these moments of terrifying events felt as if they would never end. I stood as still as a statue, not knowing how to react when the door was to be opened by the scary enormous man.
"RORY!" Bradley shouted from inside the closet. "Get in here! He saw you!" A rush of relief came over me as he rushed to me and yanked my pajama collar, pulling me inside the small, uncomfortable area.
"BRADL--" I began to shout out to him as he slammed the door shut, but he slapped a hand over my mouth and put his small finger to his lips.
"Rory..." He whispered. "Be as quiet as you can..." I nodded, my eyes tearing up, for I didn't know what was going on. Immediately after I nodded, the front door to our room was kicked down and in walked the man with the golden teeth (as I saw through the cracks in the closet's door). I could feel Brad's weak small body shaking with fright right next to mine. I tried to calm him down, for his shaking was making the clothes hanging up in the closet shuffle around and make noise. He reached his small hand out and grasped my wrist, I did the same with my other hand and we stood as still as we could. The terror rushed over us like a unstoppable wave to a small boat as we watched the man stomp around in our room. My heart was beating louder than anything in the room. It felt as if everyone could hear it, but I suppose it was only me.
"Sco'ie boy!" The man said with a gruff strange voice. "Where are you?" His dirty Irish accent was almost as terrifying as his AK-47 in his large hands. My heart was so loud that when interrupted by his loud voice, I accidentally knocked into the hanger behind me, making it slam against the other metal hangers. The loud noise obviously didn't go unnoticed.. The man smiled yet again and crept to the closet door. Bradley, still shaking, began to pray quietly next to me as he reached his hand out to one of the knobs. Just as he was ready to pull it to the side and open it, a voice, strong and brave, came from the front door.
"I'm here, Torad." Father said to the man with the golden teeth. Torad, apparently being the evil man's name, turned to my father and gave him one last grin.
"Good man.." He said, gruffly. My eyes began to widen at the scene before me...Torad lifted his gun up in the air. As he did this, my heart sank to my feet, the look in my father's eyes was hard to determine. He lifted his eyes to Torad, and without any hesitation, the moment before the gun slammed to his head, he stated something in a tone so truthful I didn't know what to think.
"I forgive you." His last words were before meeting unconsciousness. Now it changed. Everything was different. Before, he was threatening our lives, and now, he threatened my father's. This needed to end. Confused, angry and terrified in one feeling I burst out of the closet,
"NO!" I shouted and tried to make my way to my father. Bradley, in a terrified scramble to save MY life at least, snatched the back of my shirt. "CAN IT BLOCKHEAD!" I responded to his act of kindness with a shove and stomped up to the now unconscious man, my father. I grabbed up his hand and my eyes filled with tears.
"Back off, li'l lad!" The revolting man called to me as he put his hand around the top of my head and thrust me back, leaving me on the ground. My eyes slowly lifted to this monster. As soon as the man dragged the bloody Scott Finley out the door, I felt something I've never felt before. More than anger, more than hatred. I knew that I needed to give his action consequences..I knew I needed to find this man...and slaughter him. At the age of seven, no one would ever expect this out of you, but when the one thing that matters to you is messed with, you're mindset can rush into a million different directions. Torad slung him in the back of their van as I sat, helpless, on the floor in a puddle of my own tears. With one last miracle, I heard the sound of my father's voice coming from outside. I wiped my eyes and pushed the window up with all my might to hear him.
"FATHER!" I cried, happy to see him conscious again. My father was being pulled back to the van in a struggle. It appeared to be that he attempted to escape, but was stopped by the men. "Let Bradley protect you! Remember everything I said." He was about to shout one last thing to me when the van doors slammed on his face and the car was off. I sat at the window, confused. Why was it him? Why did they take the best thing in my life away?...
"BOYS!" My mother's voice called from behind me. Both Bradley and I turned to her as she stood in the doorway. I wondered where she was during the ordeal. It seemed as if she was sitting back and watching all this happen. Disregarding my evil thoughts, I followed Bradley as he ran into her arms and hugged her. "Boys...never speak of this again..okay?" She said to us. Her voice cracked in a way that was not fear nor anger...almost...pleasure?She acted like nothing had just happened. Like perhaps we lost one of our baseball games. I scrunched up my face in a pouty way (As I usually did) and let go of her.
"You're an evil, disgusting woman!" I burst out. "I hate you!" Stomping my foot, I ran back to the window and looked at the pier. Father's telescope was still there...left alone, never to be used again. What was I to do without my father?...How was I supposed to cope?..Finally, the end of my day, I fell asleep...
-Bye Diary/Journal-
Rory Scott Finley, Age 7