6

Billy, Cyan’s brother had fled when Cyan was murdered. He hid behind a thick bush far from his house. He had heard that his brother was dead of course. Not only had he ran off, but some others did too. Two of Cyan’s followers went with Billy and while on the run they told Billy to go over to my house and to find the black powder. Ryan, the leader of the two, told Billy on how to go in my house the easy way. Billy then ran to another bush. Red eyed and weary from lack of sleep, he was very close to my house. Living in Goldwood, California means that most houses were not gated community and they were not so close to each other. Billy felt dizzy, sleepy and most of all hungry. The last meal that he ate was in the afternoon a few days ago. He then got up. His body needed to sleep, eat, and stay out of the cold. He remembered Ryan’s advice and it would save a lot of trouble.

Ebony sat in his armchair reading a book. His reading glasses were perched on his nose as his eyes scanned the script. Thinking that he heard a noise he looked up. The noise was indeed a real one. There was a window in front of him and even though the blinds were covering most of the outside world he could faintly see Billy’s form suddenly collapse. Ebony looked at the still form for a second, wondering if rescuing him seemed the right thing to do. At long last Ebony made up his mind and had gotten up from his chair. He gently placed his glasses and book on the small table that was next to his chair and he then opened the door and rushed over to the fallen boy.

When he got to Billy, he was unconscious. Billy tried hard not to laugh as Ebony fell for the trick. Any second now he’ll be in my house. Any second now…

"Daniel! Daniel get down here!"

I slowly got up. I kicked the covers up as I made my way to the light switch. I was almost there when my bare feet stepped on something sharp. I yelped in pain as I balanced on one foot in the dark and that was when I lost balance and toppled into my closet. Boxes that were perched atop the closet fell as I smacked the wall and while they fell the lid opened and books, paper, and other items fell on me like a thunderous rainstorm.

"Daniel? Are you up?"

"I’m coming!" I shouted back. My voice muffled in all the trash. I was suprised that he didn’t hear toys and books falling like a fucking hailstorm. I slowly pushed them away as I climbed out of the mess that I fell into. All of this junk was in my closet. I said to myself as I opened an old paint by number book. How come I never saw these boxes.

Then I grabbed an old notebook and I went over to turn on the light. In the lit room I saw that the notebook was green and stained with crayons, pens, and a large stain on the cover and pages that looked like apple juice. The cover was bad, but as I opened the notebook it was just as bad.

The first front pages were very clear and it puzzled me that no stain was shown on these first few pages.

But the rest was almost impossible to make out. Was this mine? I looked back to the cover and saw visible writings scrawled in black ink. It said.

My Journal

By Daniel

"Daniel! I mean really!"

I took the notebook and placed it on my desk. Then I walked downstairs to see what Ebony wanted.

"What took you Daniel?" said Ebony as I entered the living room.

I didn’t answer because I saw someone that was very familiar lying on our couch. It was Billy, Cyan’s little brother. His eyes were closed and he was making sleeping sounds. I couldn’t tell if he was deep in sleep or just exaggerating.

"How-Where…" I couldn’t find the words to my question, but Ebony sure did.

"Do you know him, Daniel?"

"Of course I know him! He’s-" I then stopped. If he, Billy, came to our house then he must have come here for a reason.

" –A friend" I finished. Knowing that me and Billy sure were not "friends"At least I had solved the problem on where was Billy, but I didn’t solve on why…

Bounsa was an older friend of mine. He is part white and part Hispanic. He lived alone with his older sister Stephanie. Bounsa was doing his daily money count for his sister, which went away to Pennsylvania to do some errands. He blew his black hair from his face as he counted.

"Nine hundred and sixty four…nine hundred and sixty five…nine hundred sixty six…"

He would stop sometimes and record pile per pile on a notebook. The pen made scratching sounds as it traced upon paper.

"Nine hundred and sixty seven…nine hundred and sixty eight…"

Bounsa stopped. Not because he had to record another pile but because he heard a faint knocking sound followed by a hoarse voice.

"Bounsa! Bounsa open the door! It’s me Curtis!"

Bounsa wrote down the last count on the notebook and circled it, showing him that he will get back to it later. He then got out of his chair and went for the front door. As he opened it he saw Curtis’ white and very frightened face.