Center of The Universe

Chapter One- Being The Center

       I'm the center of the universe.  Or at least I think I am.  You might think I'm crazy, but as soon as you hear what I have to say, I assure you, you won't. 
       First, let me introduce myself.  My name is Lindsey Sterning.  I'm 17 and I live on 1738 August Street.  A quiet neighborhood filled with nice people, they act that way at least.  I say this because...  Well...  Just listen.

       It all started with my best friend Jorden.  We met at daycare when we were just five years old.  We would still be friends today if it weren't for "the incident".  The incident took place in fourth grade when he told me some very interesting things.  He told that he heard his parents talking about a new kind of TV show going into production.

    "A new kind of TV show?  What's it about?"
       "I heard it's about y-!"  Jorden was then grabbed by his arm.  One of the teachers took him out the door, saying that he was being signed out. 
       "Bye Lindsey!" He said as he disappeared behind the door. 
       "B-bye Jorden!"  I said with a dying volume. 
       The next day I asked one of the teachers where Jorden was.  She said he moved to Virginia.  Which was strange because I saw him at an ice cream shop downtown about a year after he supposedly moved.  I smiled at him and waved, but he just looked at me like a weirdo, like he never even met me.  I was so young, I was just forced move on.  Ever since then, I've been looking anywhere and everywhere for anything that could relate to what happened to Jorden and what he said.

       The school bell rang.  "Have an amazing summer, class!"  Shouted the teacher over the dozens of rising student voices.  I gathered all of my books in a neat pile and flashed a fake smile at the teacher as I walked through the door.  I don't do this because I don't like her.  I do it because I'm suspicious.  Suspicious of everything and everyone.

      The car ride home wasn't terribly long.  Just longer.  I guess it was because I was to busy thinking about what I would do all summer.  I mean, I have friends, but I can't tell which ones are real and which ones are fake.  Considering my thoughts on what's happening around me.

       My Mercedes was neatly parked in the driveway of my house.  I took the multiple keys to my house from my back pocket and one by one unlocked the front door.  Yes, I agree my parents are way too strict.  For example, I have a daily eating schedule.  Every day of the week is a different series of foods.  Nothing new.  They say it's so I stay healthy.  

       "Welcome home, Lindsey!  What did you do today at school?"  And did I mention that I was obligated to telling them every little detail about my day?  It takes a while but eventually I'm done.  My mother nods and goes back to making her homemade macaroni and cheese.  I darted upstairs and lifted my pillow.  Time to write in today's journal.  

       My journal is where I kept all my evidence to back up my claim on being the center of the universe.  So whenever I doubt myself, I can always look in my journal to reassure myself that I am.  Also, my parents always ask me what it was.  But I always reply with, "The drawing pad you got  me."  Since I'm not allowed to buy anything, I just have to ask for it.  If they think it looks fine, they'll do a little bit of research to make sure it's safe.  And as much as they tell me that that's what all parents do, we all know it's not.

Entry 385- Today, I heard one of the lunch ladies talking with the principal about keeping me safe.  Of course, this is nothing new, but it still counts as evidence.

       The sun was setting over the horizon.  The sunset and sunrise were always nice to watch.  It always made me feel free like I could do anything.  But then again, I can't do that with my mom and dad breathing down my neck.  Annoying is an understatement.

       My dad locked the door and the window, shut the curtains and looked in my closet and under my bed.  And this isn't because I was afraid of monsters.  It was because my dad was afraid of monsters.  Or at least that's what he told me when I was younger.  But I know that's not the case.

       My eyes were heavy and shut.  Sleep.

       The wind blew through my light brown hair, lifting it up and off my shoulders.  The sunrise was beautiful.  The most beautiful sunrise I'd ever seen.  I looked down below me, off the ledge.  Freedom.  I pulled myself up to the edge and walked.