The Dark Abyss

July 9, 1998

The storm nearly destroyed the town, it was almost like this town was doomed from the beginning...

It has been 15 days since the storm took place and everybody is still in shock of loss. This notebook was given to me by Jack Ivanov, he never seemed to be interested in people like me and yet he gave me this as a gift, he has been sympathetic lately. It almost felt like he had been through this several times before.

When I was talking to him, his face had this glare that is hard to describe, it almost felt like he pitied me with all the desire and sadness he could muster up. He was covered in sweat, almost like he was running from something. This was not unusual, hence why I did not ask him. He was always in a hurry, even in the shelter when the storm hit, he usually would come in the shelter, provide us something we needed, then leave and he could not be seen for the rest of the day.

Today he unusually gave me this notebook as a gift for the time I helped him with writing a letter, at his house, that day he seemed patient, almost like he was waiting for the same thing he was running from. This thing as it felt at that time was like a Job, Jack never told us where he worked or why he was leaving or even why he always seemed to be in such a hurry if asked he would reply with "it's none of your concern", his accent made it seem soft but harsh almost like he was protecting us from a truth. This was added by the fact that every time anyone showed up at his house, his house would look like it was freshly cleaned, polished and painted, the ceiling looked like it was painted multiple times and the floor seemed to be cleaned so many times the wood seemed to give off a certain scent of cleaning product that felt like it was overused to the point the smell covered the entire house with it. The floor was not coated with a mattress like all the houses in this town, when asked about this, Jack told me "it traps a lot of dirt in it", though he was right, it was a bit suspicious and almost every time he told us we can see his smirk, but it did not feel like it was meant for us, but somebody else in the room.

Jack was a Russian immigrant, though he might not be the best person to talk to, he was there for all of us, the day that Timmy Wilson died being trapped in the sewer just recently, he was there for his funeral and the day that Martha Stewart died of an illness, he was there for her funeral and he was there for everyone and even now he is helping us at the shelter. But, to this day, Jack is an outsider to us, the reason he was an immigrant was enough for us to distrust him, though he may be kind or respectable, he is never going to be one of us.

I don't know anymore!

I don't feel it is fair that all of his work to help us is rejected.

This never felt right in my head, it feels like Jack was always part of this town and without him, we would be lost.

My father always respects him, even though he was an immigrant. He was always part of my family, even if the entire town thinks he is an outsider.