Love, Lacey

Amy straightened her posture as she stepped outside into the cooled evening air. The wind bit at her cheeks and nose, staining them a bright, peppy pink. In her couture scarf, designer coat and light grey knit cap adorning her head, she looked exactly like the part she played. She stealthily slid into her Volkswagen beetle, a bright red auto, one of the many birthday presents from her well-off parents, and revved the quiet engine.

She risked one glance at the coffee shop before slamming her foot down on the gas pedal and hightailing out of there. She recklessly sped swiftly down narrowing lanes to the not-so-nice part of town. It wasn’t quite area where a girl like her would get mugged, robbed, or worse, but she most certainly wasn’t anywhere where her mother would want her friends to know she was. All in all, her trip there took about an hour, even with no regard to the speed limit.

Amy regularly went there to think about her problems parked on the side of the road, whether they be with friends, family, people, or just life in general. And, more recently, she went there to read.

Amy looked around the deserted stretch of road she’d pulled onto before parking just off the side of the street. She pulled her bag into her lap hesitantly, as if afraid someone were going to jump out at any given moment screaming, “Surprise! You’re on Candid Camera”. Amy took a deep breath, inhaling the odor of leather from her car seats, and lemons from her air freshener.

She undid the clasp on her bag.

Lacey’s diary was becoming like a drug to Amy. She felt nearly panicked when it wasn’t in her possession, and she constantly thought about reading it. If it were someone else’s secret, she’d probably laugh with her clones at their more than mild obsession.

Amy’s hand darted inside her purse, searching around for Lacey’s diary. Her fingers came into contact with the worn cover and she gripped it greedily, pulling it out and staring at it with an excited gleam in her eyes.

Smiling contentedly, she allowed the cover to flip open. She searched for a moment for the page she had been on before continuing the story of Lacey’s oh-so-interesting life.

November 21, 2000

It's starting again. Andy's doing stuff to me again. When he and my mom first started going out, he used to do stuff to me. Bad stuff. But that was like 2 years ago. I thought it was over. Guess I was wrong.

What the hell did I do? Why does this have to happen to me? Why is it the only person who wants me is a fucking pervert? Am I really that ugly, that worthless, that horrid?

I don't know if I should tell my mom. Will she believe me? Nah, she always takes his side for everything. She'll probably say I'm lying or I deserved it or whatever. I hate her. I hate him.

I hate myself for letting this happen.

Scrawled in huge letters, taking up the rest of the page were the words: KILL ME!

All was perfectly silent for a single moment. Amy took a deep, shaky breath, her eyes clouding with moisture for the girl. Even a freak like Lacey didn't deserve that. A single sob shook through her as she traced the letters etched into the bottom of the page.

Please don’t say that. she thought.

Slowly, somberly, she gripped the corner of the page between her right thumb and forefinger. She took another breath, trying to wrap her mind around the concept of this “Andy”. She didn’t even know him, but already she despised him. With her left hand, she caressed the page, feeling the dips and dents from Lacey’s messy scrawl. Amy felt the dents go deeper the more agitated the distressed brunette became.

She sighed, closing the diary without reading the next page as she so wished to. “They’ll be mad at me enough as it is.” Amy cautioned herself in a singsong voice, knowing her parents were probably about to call the Marines to scour the city for her. She glanced at her RAZR and saw it was 7:15. Two hours after she said she'd be home. How time flies when you're invading people's privacy.

As if on cue, her pricey little phone rang. With her pretty face twisted up in a grimace, she flipped it open.

“Hello?” she asked, sounding much more like a child than she’d intended.

“Amy Lee, you had better get your grounded little behind home right now, or so help me - ” The bell-like voice of Amy’s mother resounded through Amy’s car. It seemed exceptionally loud after her prolonged silence.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Amy said much more submissively than usual. Maybe Lacey’s diary was having a calming affect on her nerves. “I’ll be home ASAP.”

Amy revved her car before hanging up the phone. Regardless of how calm and adult she’d been acting, she knew that her mother would still throw a fit at her lateness. It was just the way life worked for Amy.

Sure enough, as Amy pulled into her family’s dark driveway, she saw her mother standing at the door, tapping her toe impatiently.

“Ah, darn.” Amy sighed, parking her car and clambering out the door. She looked at her mother’s expression. Mad wasn’t even an adequate word to describe the look of disapproval on her face.

Amy shambled up to her house slowly, dragging her feet and passively resisting the impending conversation. As she passed her mother, an illuminated figure in the doorway, she saw her father sitting in his big chair by the fireplace, reading the newspaper.

Shit! Amy thought. Her father usually never read the newspaper. The only times she’s ever seen him actually pick up a paper and read were times when she was about to get a severe tongue-lashing. She grimaced.

“Amy.” Her father said in a commanding tone.

“Yes, Daddy?” She replied, feeling her knees begin to quiver.

Almost three hours of pointless screaming and arguing later, Amy sat in her room, very upset about how the evening had played out. She was now officially grounded from her car, as in she couldn’t go anywhere but school, the animal shelter, and running errands for her parents without express permission, the television, and her computer for three whole days. She humph-ed angrily at the unfairness of the whole situation. She crossed her arms over her chest and almost wished that she’d never found the diary.

Amy laid down on her thick, sea green comforter, sighing, trying to console herself about the situation. Not only had her father reprimanded her for being home late, but he had somehow found out about the whole shelter incident, too. (She made a mental note to severely beat Hippie Snitch Boy next time she saw him.) Amy sniffled as she tossed restlessly in her bed. They took her driving privileges, her television, her computer, and they sent her to bed without supper, as if she was Pip from Great Expectations.

Cruelty to their own daughter… Amy thought, her face wrinkling up into a grimace. She sighed again, angry, before swiftly snatching the diary out of its place in her bag. Despite her own slowly disintegrating life. she still had a story to finish.