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Post by endymien on Apr 27, 2009 14:56:33 GMT -5
In a town called Brenton, at a bank, in an area beyond where the public is allowed sits a desk where is a drawer containing old papers stuffed under a yellowing paged leather bound copy of a bible. If one were to happen to this town and bank, manage to get behind the bars, into the desk, then rummage through the personal paper this certain individual may happen across a grimy journal that could easily be ten years old. And by the looks of it could easily have been carried by a particularly dirty child, or a young boy. On these pages, in horrible script with not the best of grammar is an account of a child‘s life according to his own perspective. May 25th I wonder if my mother and my teachers think I am a girl. It is my tenth birthday, and in pretty pink and white parsel paper is you. Miss Mandin thinks that you are a better gift idea. I would have rather had that tin train in the shop window at Barney's. Can you believe it, it wound up! But no, I guess they want me to turn into a woman and write my thoughts! Not have a wind up train! Miss Mandin also says at the end of every entry I should write a rhyme, to improve my soceals skills and understanding of leteracture. Whatever those things are. If you ask me, that falls under the school supplies, not birthday pressents! Here is your silly little rhyme Miss Mandin. My teacher is much enthoosed to turn me into a boy with boobs. Reading, writing, arithmatic, the makers of these need a kick for making all us go to school and make us study till we drool! Okay diary, it is still May 25th and all. I just wanted to take something back. My mother isn't all too bad. I feel kind of bad now. We had my favorite cake and after she gave me a different present. It was the wind up toy train! I guess it is only my teacher who is a horrible woman that ruins birthdays. And life, I should say too.
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Post by endymien on Apr 27, 2009 16:02:16 GMT -5
June-e-o-e-o-e-o-e-o-e-o [seems like someone was practicing script e's and o's] 1st.
Today Jack and Miles and I went to the bait shop on dock 2. Jack brought his ma's lunch basket, and I got my birthday money. It's great how many minnows you can buy with just 5 cents. We got down to Dad's shop, we were able to put six of them down peoples shirts, and one of them was stinky old miss Harrybeard-Harris and she counts as two. Then we got caught. Dad took his belt to me right in the middle of the isle, and Miles told me his dad gave it to him too. Sometimes Jack is so lucky his dad is a sailor and always gone. There is no one to embarress him like that! Tomorrow Miles and I are going to split what is left of the fish. I am going to hide them in the shop. That will teach him!
Old miss Hairybeard had a fish but it was not on a dish in fact it was down her shirt adding to her collection of dirt. Maybe that is why she always stunk worse than horse sprayed by a skunk.
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Post by endymien on Apr 27, 2009 16:25:01 GMT -5
June 29th
Today Jack and I were playing cop and robber while my mom did business with Frank. I don't like him, he smells like cigars and wall paint. Miles came and wanted to too, but he said he wanted to use his toy gun. Jack and I said it wasn't fair because we didn't have them so he couldn't play. Plus, Jack makes the best cop and I make the best robber. Right when we were playing the big escape from jail Jack's mother came down to the shop looking for him. I guess something happened to his father's boat in that storm last week. When I tried to talk to him later he was too upset. I don't think his father is coming home.
Frank and ma kicked us out but we will never pout because deputy Jack's got his gun and shoot-up Demi, that is ME!, is on the run!
June 30th
I went to Jack's house to see if he wanted to finish our game, but his gran answered the door and said they left. When I asked where to, she said that his mother and him went south to live with his other gran and pop. She say's he's not coming back. Ever! Miles came over after that wanting to go to the docks. He said he thinks it is good that Jack is gone because he probly had fleas. I punched him in the face and went home. I am never going to do games with him again. I wish it were him that drowned and not Jack's dad! He is ugly and stupid, and no one likes him.
I don't want to write a poem today. Poems are stupid too. Like Miles. I hate them both.
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Post by endymien on Apr 28, 2009 0:18:11 GMT -5
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Post by endymien on Apr 28, 2009 0:39:04 GMT -5
July 10th
Frank came over today, which is wierd because usually he comes on Fridays when my mom is watching the shop. This time my dad was watching the shop and even HE kicked me out. Because there was nothing better to do I tried to listen at the alley door. All I heard was a bunch of yelling, but no real words. Ma was telling dad at dinner she wants to go opera. She says I should go too because it will give me coltshure. I don't know what operaing is, but I have a feeling it's no fun if ma likes it. Because she doesn't like fishing or getting dirty. In fact, I bet we have to dress in suits. If I know my ma right, we will be bathing for six hours straight and using flower smelling oils! I bet operaing is a big old bath for women. I could be wrong though, a few days ago she took me to a zoo. It was filled with all sorts of wierd things. Like a jaraff with a long neck. And an elfant! It was the bigest thing I ever saw! As big as our store! I told Miles and he doesn't believe me. But that's okay because he's a stinkin liar anyways.
Adding a personal reminder. - Break into zoo and steal a Z-braw.
I went to the opera today because I was covered in hay. After three hours of washing I ran all splish sploshing towards the exit and out only way.
July 23rd
I found out what the opera was. It's just a bunch of old guys singing. I don't mind it too much but turns out your not alowed to sing along. It doesn't matter anyways because my ma says they sing in a langwage I don't understand anyways. But I did understand. I remember very especially this one line. He sang "toads are special for an anchor woa bell." She didn't believe I actually new what they were saying, but it was plain as day. She told me I can't speak italiane but I guess I really can. It must be something you are born with. I think I am going to practice opera. Really all I have to do is scream really loud italiene I guess. And you make lots of money. And something kind of scary! When we got home Frank was at the shop saying he really needed to buy something and we had to let him in. Dad made me go inside while he talked to him. I couldn't spy because ma was there.
Toads are special for an anchor woa bell Scithy my tie and froth the well. Oats go mealtime with a scalding cane Lippens and messes are a special game. To clear this up, this poem is entirely in Italiene.
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Post by endymien on Apr 28, 2009 23:47:03 GMT -5
Aguust 11th
In the post I got a letter all specially for me! It was from Jack. He told me he is real bored out there, and his gran and poppy are old and stiff. He says his dad did die, and he is sad. But he is tired of everyone only wanting to talk about it. I agree, that it is crushal to get out and get your mind off of it too. At the bottom he drew a picture of Deputy Jack and Shoot-up Demi! I tell you, he is going to be a bonafied artist. [Under this entry is a child's drawing of what seems to be two figures holding guns, one of them wearing a mask and a blotch that could be a badge on the other's shirt. No poem is with this entry.]
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Post by endymien on Apr 30, 2009 18:06:19 GMT -5
September 11th
It has been a month since my last entry! Things have been so busy. I went out of town with my ma to visit her sisters. They are all so much alike. They live in small houses. One is married to this lumber cutter man, and the other lives on her own. I guess that is a reason for some problems. The ladies in the town talk about how it isn't good for her to have her men friends over. I don't understand why, it doesn't seem fair. I have friends that are girls, and they come over. Dad is watching the shop. They say that they want to make sure Frank isn't going to be coming over anymore. That's good, because I like him less and less everytime he comes over.
September 24th
We stayed over at Aunt Marie's. I think I understand why they don't like her friends coming over. Ma promised we are going to stay the rest of the time at Aunt Elisabeth's, because it's hard to sleep with all that noise. Ma seemed really embarressed. I still like Aunt Marie more though. She curses and smokes, and she taught me how to climb a tree and tell if the apples are the best. [Again, no petry but a drawing of what looks like a cloud with circles in it on a stick. Possibly a drawing of an apple tree.]
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Post by endymien on Apr 30, 2009 18:23:42 GMT -5
October 17th
I am getting bored away from home. I miss my friends and dad and the shop. Now I know how bored Jack must be! There is no one my age here, and everyone is so boring! Dad says he thinks we'll be able to come home soon. Ma doesn't let me read the whole letter though so I am not sure why we can't come home now. I hate how they treat me like a kid. It's not fair. I am done with poetry too, because my teacher can't read my journal anyways. And I am in a different school until I go back home.
October 19th
We got a post saying we could come back home tomorrow. I am excited but I hate how long it takes to get there. I asked how long it would take to get back, and ma says it takes just as long to get there as it does to get back. I don't remeber presisly how long it was, but I remember having to stop at a bunch of inns. My astimate is about three days. Aunt Marie gave me a book to read on my way back. She says it's about a real life bank robber, and I'll learn how to rob banks real good. She also said that after I rob my first real bank I can come live with her and 'lay low' for awhile. Ma told her to be quiet and not put those ideas in my preshonable head, and that I can't read the book till I am older. I'm excited to rob my first real bank. Aunt Marie and I will make a good team. She can be my hideaway. Jack will have something to really worry about then!
October 20th
Tree tree tree dirt dirt dirt boring boring boring boring. I want to look at my book. This isn't fair.
October 21st
I hate carriages. This is so boring. I wanted to ride of front and control the horses, but they only let me pretend. I have a good sense of dirrection, they should just let me ride us home. Last night's inn stunk like old cheese and fish!
October 26th
I am back home now! It is so much better than the carriage. i never thought I would be so happy to see the shop again. I don't even care if I have to sweep it for the rest of my life. Tomorrow I start my big plans to rob the bank. I figure if I ride my own horse and it doesn't have to bring a carriage with it, I don't even have to sleep. I'll be at Aunt Marie's in no time! Then we will split the money and buy lots of things. I think I am going to make a house out of money.
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Post by endymien on Apr 30, 2009 23:56:14 GMT -5
November 23rd
It is so cold. It's been snowing non stop. School has let out, and it is going to be Christmas soon. Ma has been making a lot of candy for the shop, and she lets me halp make paper decorations. Tomorrow Leisly and Miles are supposed to come over and make some too. I bet Miles is no good at it. Leisly is really good at drawing mowntans though so I bet she is better then me. My plans to rob the bank are going to wait, because it seems mean to shoot people around Christmas. I will have to wait until later to do it. Maybe in Febuary.
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Post by endymien on Apr 30, 2009 23:59:16 GMT -5
December 5th
I've got a cough, so I'm not alowed out. It is boring at the shop all day, and ma says I'm not to have any more sweets because it will make me sicker. I made a can tower in the corner, but can't do that anymore because one of them broke and spilled on the floor.
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Post by endymien on May 1, 2009 0:08:26 GMT -5
[The following pages are filled with nothing more than a series of disturbing child drawings with few curse and angry words to accompany them. Gun's, angry looking faces, shadows, and scribbles. The difference between the writing before these drawing and after is great. It could be assumed much time passed between entries, and the journal had been tossed aside for a period of time.]
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Post by endymien on May 1, 2009 0:49:51 GMT -5
April 9th
It has been quite some time since I picked up this old journal, and I do not intend on flipping back through the pages. Instead I will write forward. There is no going back in time, nor is there any use obsessing about the past. Nothing can change but the future, and that is now what I focus my time and energy on. Things have changed, of course. Any individual who happens to read the New York papers knows what happened those three years ago now, and dwelling is useless. This is my life now. My father has 'found God' as he says. Something I find rather silly. If God is there, he has been there the entire time. Finding him makes no sense. And what is there to God. Most of my time is dedicated to studies. I occupy myself with school work year round now at the monastery. When I am not in classes, I have my French tutor or Piano lessons. The nun's told my father that dance, mathematics, and the arts are important. My father does not argue with people he sees as connected to God, so I have weekend studies in these. Sister Margo seems particularly interested in my education. She favors me over the other boys, though the other boys are orphans. I still have my father. I do not know why she keeps on calling me a lost lamb. People so dedicated to religion confuse me. There is no proof. It seems like someone who teaches math and logic would see that there is no logic behind this God of theirs.
April 20th
Jack wrote to me this last evening. It is funny, how short a time it seems since we last saw each other. I admit that his letters are the things I look forward to the most. I believe we fully understand each other. Both of us has lost a parent. He is the one person I can truly confide in. People don't seem to understand that the day they want me to remember has been erased from my mind. I remember black shadows, hazy figures. Jack is the one person who does not try to force me to remember pain. He has told me he still intends on joining the police force. It does not surprise me, he has an incredible sense of justice.
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Post by endymien on May 1, 2009 1:02:58 GMT -5
May 25th
This is the anniversary of this journal and my birthday. The nuns tell me that my father regretfully will not make it to see me again this year. Sister Margo said that she would spend the day with me as my father had planned us to. I do not really wish to spend the day with her though. She has a way of making me feel like a am an orphan, and my father has abandoned me. I know it is not true, he is just busy with the church. Jack sent me a gift. Would you believe, an old tin toy gun! It brings back such fond memories that it has made this the greatest birthday I have had in years. I look forward to seeing him again, and though it fills me with guilt to say it, more so than anyone.
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Post by endymien on May 3, 2009 20:35:16 GMT -5
July 18th
There was a concert this afternoon. Some of the boys who have been learning to play piano as well put it on. My father came to see, though by the time I came out to see him he had left. I am guessing he had some very important thing to attend to. It seems like a far more demanding job to be a priest than a shop keeper. My special duty for the evening was oiling the pews. I think Sister Margo felt badly that my father left before I got the oppertunity to visit him, so she let me off my daily chore. Not something I mind, because oiling the pews is my least favorite. Now I am feeling jittery though, so I think I may go dust the kitchen's shelves. I started a French tutor again, my mother loved French. Au revoir.
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Post by endymien on May 3, 2009 20:46:36 GMT -5
September 24th
Strange weather today, it goes from snowing to hailing to raining to snowing again. Two of the younger boys ran off. It beats me why anyone would want to be off on their own, especially in this weather. I understand that the monestary is not the ideal place to be, but what could they expect to find on their own. Whatever happens, I do hop the best for them. I didn't really know them, they were a few years my younger. Everyone should find what they are looking for. But the world is a cruel place. I think it more likely they find their frozen bodies in the morning then those kids find their homes again.
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