Jen’s Journal 9/12/2022

Just woke up - Feeling weird. I guess dreams are worth putting in a journal, right? You told me to write whatever comes to my mind and now that I’m doing it all I can think about are the very words that I’m putting on the page right now. Well alright, so I saw this tree. It was like the key holder we have by the front door – I’m talking about the dream now – with all the gold branches for the keys to hang off. In fact, it was almost exactly the same, but that’s not the weird thing. There was a bunch of keys hanging from this golden structure, the dream structure, and they were gleaming like Christmas lights, but they weren’t, like, going off and on or anything. They were just shining.

One of them was brilliant with this sort of indescribable violet light that somehow reminded me of a park that Dusty took me to once where it seemed like deep purple petunias were blooming as far as the eye could seen in a field that must have spanned forever.  It was one of those moments where euphoria overtakes you and you don’t know if your alive or awake or if you even existed to begin with, the only thing that’s real is what you feel and what you see before you and all your memories, your problems, your old man, all just a long nightmare that you’ve finally woken up from.

So that’s what this light reminded me of and it was singing a song that I swear I’ve heard before but even though right now I could hum it I just can’t place it. It must be something from the 70s like ABBA or something. Anyway, I grabbed the thing and plucked like a petal from a flower and suddenly the lights disappeared and I was walking down a hallway made of sleek, polished stone and although there weren’t any lights or torches or anything like that, the whole place was lit up with a line of picture frames running in parallel down the length of this miles long corridor. I didn’t know if the glass panes were like those 3d dioramas, book nooks or whatever they call them, that you stick on shelves so it feels like you’re looking into another world or just windows and the images beyond were actually there before me, but light shined through them none the less and on the other side it was like the pages of a story book come to life – Spiraling mountains, floating islands, rainbow skies. Maybe I’ll try to recall it all later if I have time.

My snooze timer just ran out. New place, new year, new school. Maybe all this is just nerves. I’ve heard some horror stories about Bloody Bill Anderson High and I guess I’m the new character – let’s hope I’m the slutty new girl that gets killed first. I gotta get ready, maybe I’ll pick this stupid thing up again later. If I feel like it. Maybe…

… I’m eating lunch alone. The first person I met here was George the door security guard who instructed me on how to past through the metal detector and enter into his disheveled sanctuary of academia. A few broken lockers, an out of order, booger clogged water fountain, not a lot of white boards (my old school had a couple of those smart boards) but otherwise this place doesn’t seem too far outside the norm. Could stand to receive a new coat of paint, though. I can barely hear myself think right now, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary for a lunch hour.  Hoping that if I make it look like I’m working on something I won’t stand out at all. I shouldn’t have worn black lipstick, this isn’t 2010 no one else is dressed like me. Some guy in a baseball cap was staring at me in history this morning - he thinks I’m a creep. Maybe if I was covered in pro baller numbers and axe body spray someone in this town would wanna talk to me, not that they’d have anything worthwhile to say. It’s the first day, though, you can’t just read twilight when you’re five and expect it to resemble an iota of reality.

Besides, I’ve been a little preoccupied. Something I saw in my dream last night, or something that was shown to me, I guess, it’s been on my mind. There was this decrepit thing - a woman – I can still hear her voice in my head, she told me her name was Raika and… well, she wasn’t decrepit. She was youthful, spritely is the word, but her face…

 Anyway, she told me this whole story about Kings and another world - the Reath she called it, I remember that - then she showed me some sort of… one of those big cemetery houses,  I think they’re called mausoleums, and the more I think about it I’m pretty sure it’s in the same place that we buried Dusty. I have to look it up, but I’d I don’t think it’s too far away from here. I wanna go there tonight, but mom’s going through her whole girl boss thing now and she’ll freak if I’m not around when she gets home from her second shift. I’ll have to try this weekend. I haven’t been to Dusty’s grave since we buried him. I guess I’ll go this weekend.

There’s a big crowd forming and screaming and cheering in the atrium. I can’t get a look of what’s going on, maybe I should head upstairs for a better view. Just heard someone mention something about a knife, I think I’ll head to my next class. I Just gotta get this day over with then four more days after that. Then two more years after that. Wish me luck. Go Cockerels...

… I wasn’t gonna pick up this dumb book again, but… well, I got hit with a volleyball in gym and snorted blood all over the net, that was a nice little laugh at my expense. I had to go to sixth period with toilet paper stuffed up my nose and met a girl who was wearing a X-Fade t-shirt, I told her it was cool and she said.

“I’d take it over a tampon up the nose.” I don’t know if she was joking or not so I’ll put that in the fail bucket for now. I didn’t say anything back.

What I’m writing about, though, everything changed when I got home! Well, it didn’t change, but I plopped my stuff on the floor of my room and fell back onto my bed with an air sack in my stomach filled with pent up frustration that just won’t pop. Mom insists on driving me to and from school now and of course she pulled up directly where the bus stops and held up the entire school, all I heard was a honking horn and cackling as she waved me in.

But I keep getting distracted. Something stuck me when I landed on the bed and when I yanked it out from between my freakin’ vertebrae it was that key, the one from my dream! I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but this can’t be real. I don’t know if I’m even awake as my pen glides across the page right now. Maybe I’m still a little girl, still living with the nasty old man and Dusty’s still alive and the last few years are just the hopeful delusions of my senseless imagination running free through boundless unconsciousness. I want to go to the cemetery. I want to see Dusty’s name on a grave stone and I want to find that mausoleum. I need to know what the hell’s up with all this! From the moment I felt the cold glass brush against me fingertips I’ve been sprinting through my memories, I’ve been listening to 21 Pilots, X-Fade, STP, every song I’ve heard over the last decade to try to figure out when I acquired the thing in real life, but I’m positive that when I went to sleep last night and the night before and the night before it wasn’t there. I’ve never seen its winding teeth or the waves and crystals that shape its face. It’s so beautiful, how could I have forgotten about it? I’m going to the graveyard ASAP.

Jen’s Journal 9/13

That guy was looking at me in first period again, he thinks I’m a joke. Some chick in short shorts and a tank top called me Tea-bag girl when I got to school this morning. Apparently now legend tells of how two balls flew at an unprecedented velocity toward the gothy new girl’s face and she tried to swallow them both in one gulp. I can only imagine how the nickname will progress: tea-bag; d-bag; tit-bag; t-bitch. I don’t know why I’m writing this stupid crap down, screw this journal…

… I’ve had the key on my mind all day, that’s why I started writing earlier. I’m sitting here in English and I’m supposed to be quietly doing a creative writing warm up, but that little, glowing gem is drowning out every other thought I have. Everything just feels so surreal all of the sudden. I don’t know if I can wai-

Jen’s Journal 9/14

I had another dream last night! One of the keys was gone off that tree, one other than mine, and that woman was there. Raika, she’s so otherworldly, but unbelievably graceful and wise - it all so bizarre. The ground and sky were both filled with storm clouds while a lustrous ring of light encircled us. She told me that my jewel was the mark of the Seer and she can only talk to me because I have some sort of connection with her or something. I feel crazy even writing this down, but it makes more sense to me than any of the experiences I’ve known for the first 16 years of my life. I got distracted from my writing yesterday by that girl with the X-Fade stuff, her name is Lisa (she says she hates her name, but she’s only seen the later seasons of the Simpsons.) Anyway, I was gonna sneak out to the cemetery tonight, but I want to wait and see if I can talk to Raika again. There’s so much that’s still yet to be said and I wanna know what’s going on before I make any moves.

I put my key on the chain of one of my necklaces and wore it to school today. It was like a cold splash of water against my face, I felt like I was myself for the first time in, well, ever maybe. I told that guy in first period to take a picture if he liked the view. I haven’t said anything dumb like that since the 6^th grade, but at least I said something, right? Having it with me just feels good, electric almost. Like a pinch of pepper after eating bland stew for the entirety of my life.

In gym I ran the mile without stopping once, an all time first that I don’t know if I’m proud of or disappointed about, but I had so much energy I felt like I could keep going for another two. That girl in the slut pumps even called me tea-bag and I just laughed. In English I struck up a conversation with Lisa mostly involving pop culture references and memes (if only all interactions could be so impersonal.) Yesterday I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or not, today it’s like I’m wide awake. This could be a sort of experiment I could do, tomorrow I won’t wear the mark to school and see how I feel. I can’t wait to see the mausoleum!!!

Gabriel’s Journal 9/14

I’ve waited to hear more from the Emperor. Why can’t anything in my life ever be fair? I sit here rotting my brain with 10 second video clips and inanely captioned pictures on the internet grasping the golden key in my hands desperately wading water until the moment I’m guided to shore by the man who I’ll someday become like a dehydrated prisoner dying for a ladle of the elixir of life. I’m Tartarus, tortured, and with my arms chained by ignorance I have no conduit with which to reach the shadow that engulfs me. I’ve only met him once, but I miss him. When he shined his light onto me I felt real. He made me real. I long to see the world beyond this kabuki theater.

My cousin says he can buy me a gun if I don’t show it to my watchers. I’m going to go see him this weekend. I don’t know what I’m meant to do with it yet, but if I’m going to complete his work then I’ll need a worthy tool and until the secrets that hide within the masterfully crafted reflections that shine off the curves of my golden gift are revealed to me something semi-automatic will have to do.

Jen’s Journal 9/15

I couldn’t help it, I was just about ready to walk out the front door with nothing violet, not even a streak of it upon my body, and by the time I had closed the car door the key was comfortably tucked away in its little home between my bra and my t-shirt. Maybe I’ll do the experiment tomorrow. For what it’s worth I felt good again today and for once I did my homework last night. In Spanish I let this spectacles and blemishes guy copy down some of my work - I thought it was a nice thing to do, on the rare occasions that I actually get my stuff done why shouldn’t I share the wealth? Mr. Nicholas wasn’t too hyped about it, though.

That kid ended up getting sent to the principal’s office and for someone who demands Spanish be spoken at all times in his classroom he really went off on and nice little English binge as he made this whole speech about plagiarism and integrity. There’s only so many answers to the questions on that stupid worksheet. The most that half the kids in that class are ever gonna use Spanish for is to insult immigrants in their college dorm rooms anyway. And what’s the last thing that wasn’t plagiarized since Frankenstein the novel came out? Everyone uses the four pop chords, The Chain Smokers ripped off that Fetty Wap song (or visa versa - what ev), Star Wars ripped off Flash Gordon - we’re a species of plagiarists. Our culture is built on the stolen, immortal shoulder bones of immoral idiots. There’s only so many ways to ask for “el bano”!

In Drawing Class Lisa gave me the low down on who’s who around the school. The queen bee that’s been giving me crap is known colloquially as “Vadi the Body” and she’s going out with Robbie Domingo, the quarterback of the school football team. Supposedly, Robbie’s been deemed a true blooded sociopath by the teenage diaspora of Fletcher City - self absorbed, cruel and terribly jealous, he and the rest of the football team pull a school wide prank at the end of every year. Last Spring it was lacing the faculty toilets with homemade cherry-bombs. I guess Principal Hammerstein got his balls blown off or something, who knows. Why the principal sat on a sizzling toilet I couldn’t tell you, but apparently he was gone for all of May and all summer there’s been a man hunt for the culprit, or woman hunt I guess, or nonbinary hunt, whatever. Lisa says everyone knows it was Robbie’s idea and if he didn’t do it then one of his minions did the deed at his beckoning. She knows the girl whose dating Domingo’s best friend and that guy says that if any one turns on Rob he’ll punch their light out. Then Janet Molson’s brother says that if their cousin from Silver-Pine gets in contact with Omar Green and they even hear that… Oh my god, this is turning into a diary. I have to stop.