Two For Flinching. 🌼 Stand By Me + The Body

- prologue -

Preface,

Before you read, please open your mind to the possibilities beyond what you may think you know. For there is no greater possession than one of understanding and ability to take on a new perspective.

-G.L.

🌼🌼🌼

September 4th, 1959

Dear Diary,

I closed my book with an air in my heart, then set it on my bedside table. I already loved the story, but I knew getting up was unfortunately a bigger priority.

Staring at the ceiling and huffing in annoyance, I hastily stood up, and dragged my feet all the way to my vanity.

I slowly brushed my brown-auburn hair and thought about my very hopeful plan for the day.

I had made a craft last year with one of my girl friends, it was a bright red lip stain that I wore every day, since it made me feel special. While I made these important decisions, I even started to hum a song I'd heard the day before.

"Shut up!" I heard a grainy voice yell at me from downstairs.

I sighed. "I'm not doin' anything!"

"It's annoying!" Then I recognized my brother. "And I could hear you from China!"

I made a face at him through my wall. He annoys me everyday, though I probably deserve it.

Not feeling special today, I decided on my regular summer attire- a pair of rolled dark green shorts with one of my light, airy blouse-type shirts that felt especially breezy in the summer.

My room was my favorite spot in the house. I loved to sit on my bed and just stare up at the ceiling and think. Or even out of the window, if I felt daring. And it was cooler on the second floor anyway.

If I felt creative, I would cut out pictures or paint a picture to add to my walls. They were covered in different artwork and pictures of my friends and such.

But my favorite thing of all- I always loved to spend a good late night reading- it seemed like the only thing that kept me sane.

A pair of converse completed my last summer look... school started in only three days.

And I was completely dreading it- more than waking up early every morning. Though the pretty skirts and sweaters during winter would make me feel better once it came.

Every morning I walked around my room and sort of talked to myself, singing my favorite songs and thinking about whatever came to mind.

Sometimes I would write down events in a diary I kept under my bed, and other times I would go annoy my brother just for the fun of it and laugh my ass off while I ran away.

Most often though, I would walk around my room, trying to get something accomplished, and immediately forget whatever I was doing. Scatterbrained problems are the worst.

I ran down our creaky-steep-stairs past my brothers bedroom and into the kitchen, where my mother sat at the table and organized her coupons all across the surface of it.

My brother- Josh- sat at the end and had his hand running through his dark hair with a switch comb.

He turned to me with a stare. " 'the hell are you going? "

"Profanity" My mother said and gave him a black look. She straightened her bangs out of her eyes and continued to glare at him.

"I'm just askin' where she's going!" Josh's voice went high and squeaky while I choked back a laugh.

"Watch your mouth, kid." My father walked in opposite me and pointed to him, furrowing his graying mustache. "You don't need to be fightin' with your mother, of all people."

I stuck my nose up and crossed my arms. "None of your business."

He laughed at me and I returned the favor with my tongue out in retaliation.

I walked behind the table and took a fuzzy peach from the counter. I took a couple bites before stating: "I think I'll grab something to eat later. Sound okay? "

I was hopeful they would let me leave. They always did, but hope always helped.

"Don't get into trouble, Annalise." My father started after me.

By that time, I was already halfway out of the door, peach in one hand and the knob in the other.

"I won't." I smiled as I began to shut the door with my parents bidding me off with goodbyes and probably another stupid remark from my brother.

I knew my parents would be gone for work and other activities- my dad for his family company and my mother for her Quilting Bee Association and Lady Book Club.

The treehouse was only a couple of blocks from my house, a quick run past my friends' meet up corner would get me there in no time.

I waved to an old lady watering her flowers on the street, and then a father sitting outside on his porch with his young daughter. I had always loved waving to everyone I saw- I knew it always brightened my day, if not theirs.

The sun was already hot at ten o'clock in the morning, yet the Oregon air was dry and balanced it all out. Though the smell of forest trees and greasy burgers from across town would never leave.

Except for the smell from the treehouse, that smokey stench that I always hated wouldn't go either.

As I watched the birds fly around from oak tree to maple tree and little squirrels scurry across my path, I thought to myself about all the things I loved about this pretty old forest. All the while savoring the last few bites of my breakfast before tossing it aside for compost and bugs.

A few minutes later and I was already in front of the treehouse, never knowing what I'd expect every time I came in.

I could already hear the static-radio drowning out the songbirds in the trees, but I always loved a good Elvis song to listen to.

I trotted up to the ladder and slowly climbed up, hoping somebody would let me in.

I knocked the 'secret knock' (it wasn't very secret, just about every person used it as a code knock for their own purpose.) and waited for somebody to open it.

Silence, except for Teddy Duchamp's squeaky door-hinge laugh.

I knocked again, and another riff of a guitar from the radio and some sort of good joke from Chris accompanied the answer I, furiously, didn't get.

Gosh, these boys drive me crazy.