The Notebook

Part One

The metal drawer of my desk squeaked as I pulled it open. The sound rang through my ears, making me cringe. I found the notebook and set it on the clear area of my desk.

The desk was the only thing in my room that stayed organized, and only because I never used it.

My eyes scanned the deep crimson cover as I reminisced back to when I first bought it. Gerard and I had been out, hunting for presents to buy for Mikey for his birthday. I think it was the first time I had ever spent time alone with Gerard.

He had stopped at a store I had never even heard of, needing to pick up a new sketchbook. Next to the racks of sketchbooks were racks of notebooks. I drifted over as Gerard searched for the one he wanted and saw a crimson, hundred-page notebook on a stack that was marked with a yellow clearance sign.

I hadn't been looking for a notebook. I hadn't had any need for one. And yet I had picked it up and flipped through the pages.

Gerard had looked over. "You need a new notebook?" he'd asked.

"Yeah," I had replied after a short pause. I wasn't sure why I had said it. I didn't know where the weird urge to buy it came from. But, when Gerard found his perfect book and we proceeded to the checkout, I brought it with.

I had only been sixty-nine cents, after all.

And now, months later, I've found it a purpose.