The Lost Diary

By Paula A. Geanau

A week alter Hurricane Jeanne had passed; the neighbourhood finally began recovering from the losses. The neighbours decided the town needed cleaning and needed it badly. Every family decided to throw a hand, either it was by collecting, cleaning, repairing or throwing away the rubbish. In the northern part of the small town, between bits of roof tops and bricks, in the hot sun of that day, stood bravely the remainder of the beautiful house of the Garners. Beautiful as it was, the house had been the most vulnerable to the hurricane, and the tragedy occurred. The Garners were all hurt in the hospital, and the grandmother had reached her final days in the presence of Jeanne.

Violet was the first to adventure herself between the broken bricks and into the ruins of the house. Slowly, everybody followed, and began cleaning up what was left. Between all the confusion, hurt and sadness, Violet found a pretty black notebook. Shyly she opened it and read it to herself:

"Dear Diary,

We are all scared. The hurricane is coming our way, it's now inevitable. The streets leading outside town are flooded, and we're out of electricity. Grandma assures us, in her new found pessimism, that she won't survive this one. Mother can't stand it longer, and my little brother, the little freak, has already packed his entire collection of toys to take them with him. I live in a crazy family. We all made our provisions and packed, now all that's left to do is pray we won't have to leave this house, we all love it dearly. Funny enough, I'm beginning to feel like Dorothy now. But then reality hits me, and I realise that this is a hurricane, not a tornado; fiction doesn't become truth and in the end we'll still be in USA, Toto. Although I wouldn't mind if this were just a figment of my imagination. The battery radio my dad bought is on, and they've just announced it, she's almost here. I hope we all live through this. Love,"

Violet stared for a few seconds at the unfinished entry. Everybody the Garner's daughter, she was a nice girl. If it wouldn't have been for a silly fight a year ago, Violet and she would've still been friends. Perhaps the hurricane left space for second chances, second beginnings. The girl hugged the dairy to her chest. Tomorrow she'd visit the hospital, to return the lost diary.



A/N: We were given this as an essay in school, only the title. I honestly didn't know what to write, but I remembered a promise made to Sokorra, so I decided on this. If I written anything to hurt your feelings, I'm truly sorry. I didn't mean to hurt people, just to give a bit of sunshine-after- storm optimism. Hope you liked it. Dedicated to Sokorra, and all of the people who had the bad luck to live through Jeanne.