Lost Dreamer
New member
God post KK. One little thought; from what we already know about Teej there shouldbe some good physic reasoning behind her wanting Jen to read the diary, ye ken?
Post more when you can
Post more when you can
Teej
- Thread starter Kalakali
- Start date
Kalakali
New member
Um... I think I know what you're saying, but I seem to be a little bit out of it today. (He he, Friday I put the butter in the sink and didn't realize it... ) Like... do you mean Teej should have more of an alterior motive?
Thanks for bringing that up. I need all the help I can get on this! If anyone else sees anything--grammar, storyline stuff, feel free to let me know!
Next post should be up soon-- and it's long!
Chris
) Like... do you mean Teej should have more of an alterior motive? Thanks for bringing that up. I need all the help I can get on this! If anyone else sees anything--grammar, storyline stuff, feel free to let me know!
Next post should be up soon-- and it's long!
Chris
Kalakali
New member
You guys! You know what? I was just reading it over, and realized something. TJ's still on crutches! And here I've been writing like she's running from rooms and stuff. Man, i feel so stupid! Can't believe I forgot that. Anyway, I thought I'd tell you since I don't think you noticed either, seeing as no one told me about it!! Lol. Now I have to go back and make edits...
Kalakali
New member
1/5
I know it’s only been a day since I was last here, but I couldn’t help but want to get back to this book; make sure it was safe. I couldn’t bear it if someone had taken it. Or if I had taken it home with me, Mom would’ve surely found it and shown it to her boyfriend. And, believe me that would’ve been very bad indeed.
I’ve found a little niche in the brick wall here in the alley where two bricks come out and there’s a little hollow space back there. In all of Cleveland, I’m the only one who hides in this alley and would know about it. And even though I know that, I’m still nervous of leaving the book in the open or even under a bag of garbage. What if someone would come to get the trash? It hasn’t happened in the two years I’ve been hiding here off and on; it just keeps piling up, but what if they would come get it now? This way, it’ll be in the wall and no one will know but me.
I’m so… mixed up. They say home is where the heart is, but I don’t know where my heart is. At home- or at least at my house- there’s nothing but Mom searching for the next high and empty promises. After watching her do that to herself and getting thrown in prison time and time again… There can’t be anything worthwhile in that life, yet I feel like I’m doomed to live it. The Bulldog isn’t helping any- that’s what I call Mom’s boyfriend. He hates me; thinks I’m nothing but a pesky little brat in the way of his meth operation. He calls me “Tabby Cat,” and that’s when he’s being nice. Usually he just calls me nasty names like b**** or some other insulting, disgusting swear word. Mom doesn’t join him in calling me names, but she doesn’t stop him either. That’s why I can’t let him find this… this book. He’d get so mad he’d blow a gasket. And there’s no telling what would happen- to me or to the book.
Then there’s school. I usually only go when I’m in another home, with some other nice people who won’t last- just until Mom gets out of prison again and persuades the judge to let her have me back. School… school is like a place where I can let it all go. I really like school, unlike most kids, because it means I don’t have to be home, which is what most kids want. There are lots of books at school, books that take you places far, far away. Far away from my problems, that’s for sure. At school I can learn, and that takes my mind off of everything. But then Mom gets out of prison and life spins out of control again. I skip when Mom’s home, mostly so I can focus on staying out of her way- and Bulldog’s- and keeping an eye on her. How can your heart be in a place you don’t even go anymore?
How did my life end up this way? My mom’s a drug addict, her boyfriend hates my guts, I have no friends, I spend my time hiding in an alley. The only thing remotely close to a friend is Josh, and all he talks about is God and Jesus and all that jazz. He keeps saying that I have a best friend in Jesus if I’ll only accept it, but I don’t know. The whole thing sounds crazy to me. How can you believe in something you can’t see, and how does that help you? I don’t know if I can risk trusting my heart with something, especially something I can’t see, and having it get broken again.
The entry went on, blending into the next one. I read on, completely engrossed in these diverse and intriguing thoughts of the girl downstairs. I kept going, and I couldn’t stop. Life from TJ’s point of view was so different, so… interesting. And no matter what she said, I could definitely tell that Teej had a gift for writing. The way she put things was just right left no doubt in my mind, and she told her delicate, painful story with clarity and ease. In her diary, she spoke of life at home and the struggles of every day life with her mom. Whenever Bulldog did something, TJ wrote about it. She talked about how she was so anxious to get back out on a wakeboard; winter had made it impossible for her to practice. I learned about how she had first been introduced to the sport; how she met a nice guy on Lake Erie who had come to the lake every day and taught her to wakeboard. She told of the things on her heart or in her mind. This was a completely different side of TJ than we had seen; the diary’s Teej was expressive and thoughtful, funny and talented. The only TJ we had seen was shy and quiet, only showing her talents through wakeboarding at the lake. I became so wrapped up in the diary entries that, when I finally looked up, it was past 5:00 and my parents could be heard coming in the front door.
I know it’s only been a day since I was last here, but I couldn’t help but want to get back to this book; make sure it was safe. I couldn’t bear it if someone had taken it. Or if I had taken it home with me, Mom would’ve surely found it and shown it to her boyfriend. And, believe me that would’ve been very bad indeed.
I’ve found a little niche in the brick wall here in the alley where two bricks come out and there’s a little hollow space back there. In all of Cleveland, I’m the only one who hides in this alley and would know about it. And even though I know that, I’m still nervous of leaving the book in the open or even under a bag of garbage. What if someone would come to get the trash? It hasn’t happened in the two years I’ve been hiding here off and on; it just keeps piling up, but what if they would come get it now? This way, it’ll be in the wall and no one will know but me.
I’m so… mixed up. They say home is where the heart is, but I don’t know where my heart is. At home- or at least at my house- there’s nothing but Mom searching for the next high and empty promises. After watching her do that to herself and getting thrown in prison time and time again… There can’t be anything worthwhile in that life, yet I feel like I’m doomed to live it. The Bulldog isn’t helping any- that’s what I call Mom’s boyfriend. He hates me; thinks I’m nothing but a pesky little brat in the way of his meth operation. He calls me “Tabby Cat,” and that’s when he’s being nice. Usually he just calls me nasty names like b**** or some other insulting, disgusting swear word. Mom doesn’t join him in calling me names, but she doesn’t stop him either. That’s why I can’t let him find this… this book. He’d get so mad he’d blow a gasket. And there’s no telling what would happen- to me or to the book.
Then there’s school. I usually only go when I’m in another home, with some other nice people who won’t last- just until Mom gets out of prison again and persuades the judge to let her have me back. School… school is like a place where I can let it all go. I really like school, unlike most kids, because it means I don’t have to be home, which is what most kids want. There are lots of books at school, books that take you places far, far away. Far away from my problems, that’s for sure. At school I can learn, and that takes my mind off of everything. But then Mom gets out of prison and life spins out of control again. I skip when Mom’s home, mostly so I can focus on staying out of her way- and Bulldog’s- and keeping an eye on her. How can your heart be in a place you don’t even go anymore?
How did my life end up this way? My mom’s a drug addict, her boyfriend hates my guts, I have no friends, I spend my time hiding in an alley. The only thing remotely close to a friend is Josh, and all he talks about is God and Jesus and all that jazz. He keeps saying that I have a best friend in Jesus if I’ll only accept it, but I don’t know. The whole thing sounds crazy to me. How can you believe in something you can’t see, and how does that help you? I don’t know if I can risk trusting my heart with something, especially something I can’t see, and having it get broken again.
The entry went on, blending into the next one. I read on, completely engrossed in these diverse and intriguing thoughts of the girl downstairs. I kept going, and I couldn’t stop. Life from TJ’s point of view was so different, so… interesting. And no matter what she said, I could definitely tell that Teej had a gift for writing. The way she put things was just right left no doubt in my mind, and she told her delicate, painful story with clarity and ease. In her diary, she spoke of life at home and the struggles of every day life with her mom. Whenever Bulldog did something, TJ wrote about it. She talked about how she was so anxious to get back out on a wakeboard; winter had made it impossible for her to practice. I learned about how she had first been introduced to the sport; how she met a nice guy on Lake Erie who had come to the lake every day and taught her to wakeboard. She told of the things on her heart or in her mind. This was a completely different side of TJ than we had seen; the diary’s Teej was expressive and thoughtful, funny and talented. The only TJ we had seen was shy and quiet, only showing her talents through wakeboarding at the lake. I became so wrapped up in the diary entries that, when I finally looked up, it was past 5:00 and my parents could be heard coming in the front door.
Lost Dreamer
New member
What i was trying to say is that Teej doesnt seem like the kind of person to spill her guts. If she wanted Jen to read her diary, there has ot to be some hidden little reason. Like, maybe she's crying out for help. Maybe she wants to tell someone her story, but is afraid to; and the diary seemed like the best way to do it. Whatever you decide, that needs to be discovered or stated somewhere along in this story. otherwise it just seems out of charecter and, frankly, a bit odd.
that was a nice section though. keep up the good work kk
that was a nice section though. keep up the good work kk
Lucy_QueenofNarnia
New member
great job, it's coming along nicely! I agree with LD--I wonder if she'll find out some important little piece of information or a big picture that would explain why TJ was so willing to let her read it.
Lady Callandra
New member
Well, I haven't seen this thread in a while. I'm glad I didn't miss too much. This is turning out to be really interesting, and you're putting it together nicely. I agree with LD too about TJ wanting someone to know her story but didn't know how to say it. Trying to let Jen read it like that is a good way.
I'm glad I didn't miss too much. This is turning out to be really interesting, and you're putting it together nicely. I agree with LD too about TJ wanting someone to know her story but didn't know how to say it. Trying to let Jen read it like that is a good way.