How Joaquin Gant Died

Dear Die-ary,

I'm twenty-one now. Division took my parents away from me eight years ago, Nick and… it has been so long since I have last seen them, I can't even remember my own mother's name.

I stopped writing, and thought. What was my mother's name? I thought, then it came to me.

I believe my mther's name was Kira, but I am not sure.

I sighed. How could have I forgotten my own mother's name? I went back to writing to clear my head.

Right now I'm in Mansfield, Oklahoma. I had been staying with Matthew and Danielle Clark, a couple that used to live here. I wasn't really related to them. I have the power to "Push" people. And when I arrived here four years ago, I "pushed" them to think I was a niece of theirs.

I also have the power to "Move" items. I got both powers from my parents. I don't know why I was born with two powers, but I always had to try to hide from Division. I knew from my parents if you were powerful within your powers, they took you away to experiment on you. I was in even more danger, because I had two. I was equally strong with both, but I was weak.

What scares me the most about my life is that when I'm alone, I don't feel alone. Even when I think I'm alone, I'm not. There are is always someone watching me. I sense them, but I can't find them. This happens to me frequently. When I'm at the mall, library, hell even at home, I always feel like someone is watching me. I am afraid, because if I don't find out who is watching me, I might not come back where they might take me.

I have always hidden, there wasn't a single time I could remember that I could just be myself without fear of Division. I hide; I am almost as part of the shadows themselves, Die-ary.

I am afraid of being caught, yet I can't do anything about it.

I put the pen inside and closed the book, and looked up to the moon, shining brightly on me. I hugged my knees closer, trying to warm my thin self. There was a cool breeze, and I had on black jeans that were tight, so were my knee-high leather boots with straps that went around my legs once, ending with silver buckles. My arms were covered by a thin white and black striped long-sleeved shirt that had an unhappy black smiley-face in the middle and I had on a black leather vest that was open, yet I was cold. My shoulder-length black spiky hair didn't help at all with the cold. It blew around with the wind, and my neck was bare. I clenched my hands, hoping to make myself warmer, making my already-pale skin paler, and my black nails contrasted with the white.

At the moment, I was the hood of my car. The car was on a ledge and from there I could see the city shining brightly below me.

I looked down and in the black shiny color of the hood, I saw the reflection of me. My black eyes were the only thing I could see in my face. I sighed and looked back out to the bright-lighted city.

I was tired of living, I thought as I hugged my knees even more closely. I have lost everything, my family, the few friends I once had, and Matthew and Danielle.

I had been right, Division had known I was here and they had taken them. I had arrived that afternoon from the store with groceries, expecting to see them; instead I saw blood on the walls and on the floor. Blood had been everywhere and when I saw it all; I had dropped everything and had run into the car and driven here, hoping to clear my head and to find what I could do about it. I couldn't think of anything, except that I wanted to die.

I grabbed the book again and opened it to the first page. I flipped through it until I landed on the page that I had drawn the faces of Danielle and Matthew. They had especially posed for this one. I smiled slightly as I thought about that day. I had barely turned 19 when I drew this. I had been so happy that day, I had drawn them both. But now, their faces tormemted me.

I flipped back to the first page. Written on the first page was the first entry I ever wrote. On the back of that page, I had drawn a picture of myself. I had written below the picture a few things about me, like my weight, 115 pounds, and my height, 5' 7.

I flipped through the pages. I read each one them, because I had a feeling as if I would never be able to again. Each one was filled with writing and I kept on flipping and reading until I reached the final page that I had filled with writing just now. The pen fell into my lap. I put the pen into my pocket that was in my vest. I closed the book. I stared at it. I suddenly turned angry and threw it. The book went over the fence and went down. I didn't hear its landing.

I thought of dying again. And then I looked at the fence. That's it, I thought.

I hopped off the hood landing onto the loose soil with a soft thud. I walked slowly to the slowly rotting wood fence that was connected with barbed wire, which separated the edge of the ledge to the fall down. I jumped over the fence, landing on the thin edge. I looked down to the peaceful bright-lighted city.

Humanity didn't need people like me, I said to myself. They needed good people who could fight for what was right. I couldn't do that. I was a weak and horrible person, who would take dozens of life's just to protect myself. I wish I was never born, I thought.

The silence was suddenly penetrated by cars driving. The tires of the cars made the loose soil fly everywhere, hitting my back and making me slip on the edge a bit. I turned my head and bright headlights hit my face. I raised my arm to protect my face; my other hand gripped tightly the fence. People came out of the car and took out guns. They pointed the guns at me and I felt the blood drain from my face. "This is Division." One voice said, I couldn't even tell if it was male or female. "Come to us, Joaquin Gant, or we all shoot you." The voice said again. I looked to the headlights to the fall down. I smiled at the people and laughed lightly.

I looked back at the moon. I hoped when I ever saw that book again, I would be as cold as the moon shining on me.

I let go of the fence and jumped off the ledge. I heard someone scream, "NOOOOOOOOOO!" behind me, but I didn't care. In a few seconds, I would be free of all my guilt and horrible desires. The last thing I saw was the bright light of moon in my eyes.

 Yeah, I know. It may kind of sad or whatever. And may be a bit cliche, sorry about that. I got the idea of this from, obviously, Push and the comic Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. The "Die-ary" thing is also from Johnny, so is the I hoped when I ever saw that book again, I would be as cold as the moon shining on me. is also from Johnny the Homicidal Maniac: Directors Cut with my own twist, as the setting, except he didn't die like this, as the clothes, weight, and would have been the height, except Johnny is 5' 9, not 5'7. The desire to die is also from Johnny. The girl's features are the combination Johnny and Kira, which is the mother of Joaquin here. I got bored as I was tryingto figure out how to go on with Alone Forever story and came up with this. It was only one chapter, sort of a one-shot. If you got any ideas how to go on in my other story, review if you want and tell me. Until then, this is what I got so far.

 From the writer's blocked girl, Dark-Bunny-In-Love.