Dear Diary

Chapter One

Dear Diary,

I haven’t made it very far – I’m sitting only on my front porch. As soon as I had quietly shut the door behind me, I knew I was free. Freedom is a little scary for someone who’s had their life dictated for 17 years.

I’m now more determined than ever to make something of myself – prove to my parents that I’m more than the trophy daughter they present to all their friends.

I should leave soon before the porch lights go on and Dad comes out for his 4a.m walk. I’ve never understood why he feels the need to wake up so early. Before I go, I need to re-invent myself for the streets. I think I’ll name myself Emma, after my deceased god mother, who was possible the only person that would have approved of what I’m about to do.

Mom and Dad, you’ve never approved of the things I wanted to achieve. It was always your way or the highway, ever since I was a kid. If I wanted to finger paint, you’d make me use a brush because of the “vulgarity” that finger painting suggests. I barely had a proper childhood.

- Aislin

I put my diary into my brown backpack and stood up. I had enough clothes to wear for a few days without washing. The Swiss Army knife Uncle Jacob had given me for my 17th birthday was deep inside the pocket of my cargo pants, and a larger hunting knife was safely stored between my clothes. I kept my guitar with me - although impractical to carry, it might come in use when I’m out of money. I slung my guitar case onto my back and my backpack onto my front. I was quite aware that I looked like an idiot. With everything secure, I started to run.

We lived really close to small patch of wilderness. One wrong turn on the highway located near the outskirts could possibly result in being stranded amongst the trees for a few hours. I knew for a fact that the forest was a divider between our city and the small town on the other side.

Once, about a year ago when I was on my first hunting trip, I’d wandered too far from Uncle Jacob. I’d gotten lost, so I’d quietly stood in one spot in fear of being attacked by a wild animal. That’s when I’d seen him.

His hunting rifle was pointed at me.

“What--,” I’d begun to say.

He was in position, ready to shoot. In a few milliseconds, he’d pulled the trigger. I didn’t even have time to close my eyes.

The shot had whizzed past me, a few inches above my right shoulder. I swivelled around to see a baby deer on the ground, twitching in pain. The shot hadn’t penetrated him in the right spot for instant death.

The shooter swore as he pushed past me. “Damn it!”

“You didn’t have to shoot it, it was only a baby!” I’d exclaimed, horrified at his inhumane behaviour.

He turned back angrily. “It was rabid, and it was coming towards you because you’re an idiot, standing in the middle of the woods alone. You’re welcome.”

He’d then removed his attention from me and back to the deer. With his gloves on, he had pulled out a bottle and poured some water into a small bowl. I’d watched as he fed the deer some water. A minute or so later, he’d taken his knife and had swiftly cut the deer’s neck.

After putting his things away, he’d remembered my presence. By this time, I was close to tears, having never seen an animal get killed.

“Who are you?” I’d asked him, frightened.

“I live in the town close by, on the other side of this forest.” His voice had suddenly become gentle. “Where are you supposed to be?”

“With my uncle,” I’d mumbled, still afraid.

Just as I’d said this, I heard Uncle Jacob’s voice. I broke off running in the direction of the sound in relief, forgetting completely about the boy. That was the last time I’d seen him.

I forgot to thank him that day, I thought to myself suddenly. I had already run through all the neighbourhoods that I was familiar with, and was now sitting on a park bench trying to catch my breath. I still wasn’t far from home, and needed to plan my next move.

I knew where I wanted to go.