Gone

Part One - The Brown Charred Journal

This is the first part of my short story Gone. I hope you guys like it.

This story is about a girl, Madelyn, who felt like she lost her whole world. After the death of her parents, she was adopted into a new family. She lost everything, her family, her belongings, her confidence, but she was left with one giant secret. The secret contained in a small brown charred journal her father gave her before he died. 

     I got a new family, not as good as my parents, but they cared for me. It was hard to cope, but it the was little steps that took me to get back on my feet again. From the damage, I got a few things, but besides the journal, I had gotten my parents' wedding rings. I never let go of them, they were my most prized possession. I never read the journal.

   "Wake up Madelyn! It's time to go." My 'sister' said. Even though it's been six years since I got a new family, it hasn't been all nice and helpful. I'm twenty years old of age, but she still treats me like I'm a fragile kid. I just want to run.

   "I'm not going!" I groggily reply from my bed. I want to sleep, and well, disappear.

   "Ok, week, goodbye!" My sister, Cassarah, said huffing towards the door. A few seconds later, I could hear the slam of the door and the shaking of the thin rickety walls. I never got around to liking her. I got up out of my warm bed, and just when I got my clothes to change, I see the brown charred journal from all those years ago. I stop in my tracks. Memories float into my brain, but they don't bother me.

   "I thought I hid that away years ago," I say while tossing the journal into a box. The journal disappears into a box of clothes, still lying on the floor. I do my daily routine to get ready for the day, but the journal lingered in the back of my mind. As I head out the house and to my car, I notice the journal in my purse.

   "Why is that there? I thought I tossed it in a box." I toss the journal on the table while walking out the door to my car.

   I get in my car and drive to the park. Just as I am getting out of the car, I see the journal in my purse, yet again.

   "Why does it keep showing up? I might as well read it." I shrug while walking away from my car, to the nearest park bench.

  I sit down and try to open the journal, but the journal seems to be locked.

  "That's weird. Why won't it open? Ugh" The struggling is pointless.

  "The journal will not open that way." A voice says in the distance.

This is the first part of my story Gone. I hope it is not too short, but I will have the next part up soon.

Bye