Anonymous Amy

Anonymous Amy Chapter Four

If someone could find a picture to fit the characters descriptions that would be awesome(:

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I rolled up to my house in my black BMW, at around about nine. Mom didn’t mind me being late home every night. I would just tell her that I got held up at practice or something, if she ever bothered asking. It’s better than the truth; I was over at Siena Parkinson’s house, doing the nasty. My mom still thought of me as that innocent eight year old who was afraid of the dark. Yeah, not anymore mom.

 I grabbed all of my stuff from the back, including Amy’s bag and smirked. She was cute, in the emo way. I wouldn’t fuck her, but she was cute. Besides, emo’s aren’t my type. I like ‘em big breasted girls who flaunt what they got.

“Anyone home?” I hollered as soon as I stepped through the doorway. All of the lights were switched off except the hallway.

No reply. Mom must be at work then.

I went into the kitchen to hunt down something to satiate my hunger. I found some mac’ n ’cheese in the fridge, and pretty much gulped that down in one heap. What? I’m a growing man. I need to eat.

I quickly poured me some orange juice and headed up to my room. My mom always tried to make every home we lived in look homey, so she hung up a lot of photographs of me. We didn’t have a big family- just her and me, but it was enough. I had a few cousins but my mom isn’t exactly tight with her sister and brother so I rarely saw them. I was the perfect example of an only child, really.

I went straight into my room and kicked off my shoes, before collapsing onto my unmade bed. I was drained. Coach was pushing me twice as hard since regionals were coming up in a month or so, and we had to practice a lot to make it into State championships. Then again, we had me so it didn’t really matter. I smirked at my own cockiness.

I closed my eyes for a second and exhaled loudly, my sigh echoing. All alone, again. This is why I hated coming home. My mother was always out working, but I didn’t mind. It wasn’t like we weren’t close or anything. I loved my mom to bits, really. But the house was always so… empty. That’s the reason why I’m hardly ever home.

Sighing, I sat up and shook my head. What should I do? Call someone? No, I can’t be bothered talking to anyone right now. Lift some weights? I can’t be fucked doing that either. Do homework?  All my homework is done, including next week’s work too.

My eyes fell upon Amy’s bag. It wasn’t the first bag I had taken from her, but for some reason she had acted like it was the most important. She had pretty much begged me to give it back to her. Why? What makes it so special?

Curiously, I picked up her bag and unzipped it. I tipped all of its contents onto my bed. Two school books fell out, along with some pens, pencils and a packet of gum. Not much, but she had acted like it was the end of the world. Then I saw another book. It was the same size as her school books, but thicker. It was black leather, with a few stickers on the front.

In big, silver letters it said DIARY.

I instantly grinned. So that’s why this bag was so important; it had her diary in it. Amy’s diary, huh? I wonder what it said. I can just imagine it right now:

Dear Diary,

Today was tragic. I wanted to kill myself because a girl called me fat. OMG, right?! I’m going to cut myself now.

I laughed. That was probably what it said. Or maybe even a few sexy dreams she had about me… I chuckled again. It probably had all of her dirty little secrets in it. Juicy details that I could torture her with. If she didn’t want me to tell, she would have to pay. BIG time. Oh, this was a blackmailer’s heaven.