Angie didn't know why she couldn’t stop crying. Just because Justin hadn’t shown up for dinner didn’t mean anything had happened to him. Since it was getting dark, she called Dipper, her black Lab, grabbed a flashlight and headed into the forest at the edge of the yard of their little cottage. She knew she should have changed from her shorts into jeans as branches scratched at her legs, raising little red welts. Slapping mosquitoes, she continued into the woods calling her boyfriend’s name at the top of her lungs. Surely, he would hear her. Dipper bounded ahead of her, overjoyed at the prospect of a good run. When Angie heard Dipper yelp, she sprinted to his location and found that his collar was tangled on the branch of a small pine tree. After disentangling his collar, she checked him to make sure he was not picking up any ticks. It was spooky that night without any moon lighting their way which led to her becoming confused and afraid. Sitting down on the ground, she rested with her arms around Dipper. Dipper was always there for her whenever she had a disagreement with Justin, consoling her with his warm licks, looking sorrowfully at her. She really believed that her dog was her best friend and confidant. “He seems to have empathy for my feelings,” she told herself.

Flashbacks began to overwhelm her as she remembered the terrible fight she had with Justin before he stormed out of the house. She had been bugging him about marrying her so they could start a family but he had vehemently yelled that he didn’t want to be tied down. He liked things the way they were but she needed more of a commitment. “If you keep it up,” he threatened, “I’ll leave you and you’ll never see me again.” He had picked up a chair and broken it against the wall before tromping off to cool down.

“What if he never comes back?” she lamented to herself as she sat forlornly with her dog. “What if something has happened to him? I would never be able to forgive myself if this was the last time we ever saw each other!” She brushed the blood from her lacerated legs, stood up and continued searching, ignoring the blisters beginning to form on her feet.

Bad thoughts began swirling around in her mind as she headed first in one direction and then spun off in another. It was difficult to keep track of Dipper because he tended to run in a straight course like an arrow honing in on its target. “Dipper, where are you?” she screamed, beginning to panic. His blackness was hidden by the dark. What if there were bears or wild dogs lurking in wait for her? What if evil spirits were spiraling around her unseen, waiting to invoke harm on her? What if karma remembered all the crummy things she had done in her life? “I don’t want to die!” she wailed as she whirled around trying to find a landmark. “I think I have seen this little pine tree before,” she lamented.

All of a sudden, she could hear loud tormented barking in the distance. Was Dipper hurt or after some animal she wondered? What if something happened to her best furry friend? She hated to admit it but she would rather lose Justin than Dipper. How could she be so unfeeling? At that moment, she knew that she really did not like herself that much. Sometimes when Justin became angry, she wished that he were dead. Oh no, she didn’t really mean that. He was the love of her life. She was so conflicted and so desperate at the thought of losing him forever that she could hardly think rationally. She began thrashing through the dark, encroaching trees toward the sounds of her pal, Dipper. At least, he will stay with me forever,” she thought. “Unless something happened to him,” kept banging away at her. Her trembling legs became weak and barely able to support her. Evil voices seemed to blockade any balanced thoughts. “Leave me alone,” she shouted as she flailed helplessly at the unknown, punching the vacant air around her. “I hear you but I’m not going to do what you tell me to. I refuse to die out here alone.” She began to become delusional, thinking that she was sinking into the deep muck of the forest floor.

“I’m not crazy!” she shouted at the voices. It felt as if the darkness was closing around her, threatening to squeeze her in its vice. Her doctor had advised her to try to think pleasant thoughts whenever she felt assailed and helpless. But he had never experienced the horror that she had. How could he know what she went through every day trying to still her mind and cope with life?

Dipper continued barking, breaking her reverie of fear. Once again, she wobbled toward his reassuring sound. She crawled into the clearing ahead to see Dipper yowling at a dark, bloody form splayed on the needle carpet.

“It must be some animal,” she reassured herself. “He must have killed it.”

Even so, it was difficult for her to force herself further into the opening where her dog was howling frantically. Dipper ran to her and then turned, trying to persuade her to follow him toward the bloody mess on the ground.

“It’s all your fault,” sang the demonic voices. “Why don’t you take a look at what you have done?”

“I didn’t do anything, you’re wrong, wrong, wrong! If it’s Justin, it must have been an accident. But it’s not Justin! It’s something else, not a person. I won’t listen to you. Go Away!”

Angie fell to her knees and crawled the last fifty feet to the black object. She now saw that it was dribbled in red, maybe more than dribbled, in fact; it was painted in great splashes of crimson paint. She couldn’t look as she dipped her fingers into the red liquid and sniffed it. It smelled metallic. It tasted salty to her tongue. “It can’t be Justin,” she screamed, as she forced herself to look into the mutilated face of her lover.

And then, she remembered what she had done!

9/12/01

Dear Diary,

Yesterday, the Taliban crashed 4 planes, that killed thousands of innocent people and themselves. It was the worst attack on American soil, they say. it devastated thousands of people, including me.

Both my parents worked in the twin towers. They were there when the planes crashed, when the towers came crashing down to the ground, the the buildings crashed down, toppled on to my parents, and killed them.

I didn’t know what had happened at first, but everyone was telling me, “I’m so sorry,” "Everything's going to be okay,” “I know you can get through this,” and everyone was crying, or about to cry. I was so confused about what had happened, then someone finally told me. I couldn’t believe it, my parents were dead.

Leaving me an orphan. I’m one of those kids who’s parents are both dead. I now have to be one of those kids, who live with their aunt and uncle.

I don’t want to be one of those kids, but I don’t have a choice.

Bye,

Carter Wilson

9/11/02

Dear Diary,

It has been a year. One year since I moved into this house. One year since my parents died. One year since I became an orphan. One year since my life had changed.

Today was the one year anniversary of my parents death. It’s also the one year anniversary of 9/11.

Everybody today at school kept telling me “Everythings going to be okay,” but they're wrong. Everything isn’t going to be okay. I’m still going to be the girl who lives with her aunt and uncle, not her parents. I’m still going to be the girl whose parents are dead. It’s not going to be okay. I’ll never be like everyone else, who live with their parents, because my parents are dead.

Bye,

Carter Wilson

9/11/03

Dear Diary,

I have delt with my parents death for two years. I have been dealing with their death for two years, today. I have been living in this torture chamber for two years. Two years too long.

I should be living in my old house, not this cruddy one. I should be living with my parents, not with my aunt and uncle. I should be living a normal everyday life, not this one.

September 11th is the one day a year, where I can’t pretend that I live a normal life. I would do anything for a normal life, having both my parents, living in my old house, and enjoying life the way I used to.

Bye,

Carter Wilson

9/11/04

Dear Diary,

Today is the three year anniversary of my parents death. I have been an orphan for three years. I have been living this life that no one understands for three years.

Everyone has no idea what my life is like. They all live with there parents, I don’t. They have both parents living, I don’t. I have to deal with the fact that my parents are dead, and theirs aren’t.

I even live with people who don’t understand. My cousins have both their parents living and I’m constantly remind that I don’t. They try and make me feel better by saying “it’s okay,” “Everythings going to be okay,” “You don’t have to be so strong,” but I know they really don’t care.

This is the first year that September 11th isn’t on a school day. I’m super glad, I didn’t have to go to school and be surrounded by people who don’t understand.

Bye,

Carter Wilson

9/11/05

Dear Diary,

Today is the four year mark. Four years ago, my life completely changed. I lost both of my parents with no goodbye, with no warning, for no reason. They didn’t do anything, all they did was go to work. Because they went to work that day, I became an orphan. All they did was go to work. That’s all it took to change my life.

This year September 11th, was on a sunday. That’s means I didn’t have to go to school and face all those people who act like they care. They try to cheer me up, by saying “it’s okay to be upset,” and “Everythings going to be okay,” but they’re only doing it, so, they don't having my negative energy rubbing off on them. They think it’s so easy to get over the loss of your parents, but it’s not.

I’m not looking forward to next year, because it will be on a Monday. Which means I have to go to school.

Bye,

Carter Wilson

9/11/06

Dear Diary,

Today is the five year anniversary of many things. It’s the five year anniversary of the crash of four planes. It’s the five year anniversary of 9/11. It’s the five year anniversary of my parents death. It’s the five year anniversary of the day, I became an orphan.

I’ve noticed over the years, there’s less “Everythings going to be okay,” on this day. That’s how I want it. I want people to stop acting like they care. When I know they don’t.

This year September 11th, was back on a school day. I realized, that I like it better when, it’s on a school day, because I’m not alone. I’m surrounded by people, which helps me act like I’m okay even though I’m not.

Sincerely,

Carter Wilson

9/11/07

Dear Diary,

The past six years have gone by so slowly. Six years of no one understanding me. Six years of everyone pretending to care, well, almost everyone.

This past year is the first year I wasn’t the loner girl of the school, since my parents died. This past year I went from being the loner girl of the school, to being one of the “nerds” in the school. Being a “nerd” isn’t all that bad, because at least I have friends. Okay one friend, but it’s not like I have no friends. Like I used too.

This year to try to cheer me up, my best friend, Sara and I went shopping. She kept saying “Shopping is very therapeutic.” I don’t think so, but there was no harm in letting her think that.

Sincerely,

Carter Wilson

9/11/08

Dear Diary,

Today is the seven year anniversary of the day four planes crashed. One in the Pentagon, another in a field in Pennsylvania, the last two crashed into the twin towers, where my parents worked.

To get my mind off my parents death, Sara threw a party for me. There were a lot of older guys who showed up for the party, not me. They brought a bunch of beer. I got into trouble for all the drunk dudes being around and for the fact they were all under aged drinking. I wasn’t drinking, even though Sara kept telling me “Have fun and drink a little.” I got into trouble, because it was my party, they all got drunk at.

Thanks to all those random guys, I’m now grounded for two weeks.

Sincerely,

Carter Wilson

9/11/09

Dear Diary,

It’s been eight years since my parents died. Eight years doesn’t seem that long ago. Eight years is 2,922 days, 70,128 hours, 4,207,680 minutes, 252,460,800 seconds. To me that doesn’t seem that long, but eight years is pretty long.

This year, instead of throwing me a party that’s going to get me into trouble, Sara and I hung out. It was much better than last year because I didn’t get into any trouble. Instead I got extra brownie points by including my little cousins. Even though they have no idea what’s going on in my life, they wreck my stuff, and act just like siblings, towards me, they’re still my cousins.

At school was great. No one treated me like a charity case this year. It was like I was normal again. Since 2000, this was the best September 11th.

Sincerely,

Carter Wilson

9/11/10

Dear Diary,

The nine year anniversary of 9/11, when my parents died is today. Nine years of living without my parents. That’s about half of my life.

This year, my boyfriend, Darren took me out on a date. He took me to this really expensive restaurant. After we went to an open field near the woods and looked at the stars. It was a really simple date, but he made it special, by doing it all for me.

When I got home from my date, my cousins surprised me by having a little family party, that included Sara. They also made me a cake for dessert. It was dorky, but it’s the thought that counts, and Sara wouldn’t judge.

Sincerely,

Carter Wilson

9/11/11

Dear Diary,

The ten year anniversary is today of many things. 9/11. My parents death. Me becoming an orphan. Me moving into this house.

I heard that they are almost done with the memorial for the victims of 9/11. I saw plans for it, it looks really cool. I think it’s a great way to remember the victims of 9/11.

I looked back at some of my old diary entries from previous years and I can’t believe how clueless I was, when I was younger. I mean, I should have been upset. I was eight years old, when I lost my parents. I just can’t believe some of those things I thought. I thought I wasn't going to be okay, because I wasn’t normal. I’m not normal, because I’m an orphan, because both my parents are dead, but I’m not the only one.

I was so wrong. No ones normal. We are all different. No ones the same. I can see why eight year old me thought that, but eight year old me was wrong.

This year I get to live the life of a college student. I’m a Freshman at Michigan State University. Sparty hardy! I went to school out in Michigan, because no one knows what September 11th means to me. They don’t have to feel bad for me. They know me for me, not the girls whose parents died ten years ago.

Sincerely,

Carter Wilson

Chapter 1

The frigid autumn wind nipped at the back of Opals neck as she ran up the familiar walkway to her house. Her and her father Alibaster had been living their for two years since cancer had taken her mother away. Time was heeling their wounds but the hardships for 17 year old Opal seemed never to end. She gasped a sigh of relief as she shut the old mahogany door and leaned against it taking in the warmth of the house.

"How's my best girl"?

Her father called from the kitchen. Blocking away all the troubles from school she put on a brave face and started for the kitchen.

"Fine papa".

She replied cheerfully hugging him from behind as he stirred the delicious smelling soup that was to be their dinner.

"Dinner soon to be done, it's potato soup, your favorite".

"Now what would make you do a thing like this papa, it's not my birthday or anything special".

"Everyday I have with you is special Opal, now how about washing up for dinner. It'll be reading in half and hour".

With a kiss to Alibaster's cheek she went to the door picked up her backpack and headed upstairs. She reached the safe haven she called her room and collapsed on the bed. Picking up her backpack she pulled out her planner prepared to tackle her homework. In reviewing the assignments she stiffened. She left her calculus book in her locker. Jumping from the bed she grabbed her purse and wallet. Taking the stairs two by two she ran to the house and out the door yelling she'd be back in time for dinner. Having no time to grab her scarf she struggled against the cold every step of the way. Sh started across the street not looking both ways and halfway across her the screeching of breaks followed by some horn honking. After a rushed apology she made it across the street and was silently praying there was some after school activities today. Making her way up the steps she tested the door. Open!

"Yes"! She exclaimed walking in and down the hall to her locker. She walked a bit slower taking in the surroundings of the school. It was so, so different at night. The feeling didn't settle well with her as she picked up the pace and speed walked the rest of the length of the corridor. She reached her locker and started to unlock lock it. But then. She heard footstep. Turning her head her long brown hair covered most of her face and with more of a purpose she opened her locker. Setting her purse down she dug into the bottomless abyss that was her locker and located the book. She heard the steps. For sure their was no doubt. She grabbed the book, shut the locker and took off down the hall then out the door and didn't stop until she was safe and sound on the front steps of her house.

"Hugh".

After several breaths she opened the door and sat on the couch. The beating of her heart still spiked.

"Just in time dear dinners served".

She smiled got up off the couch and went to go sit at the table as her dads phone rang.

"Darlin I have to take this go on ahead and eat".

"Ok papa. "

Her father stepped outside and feeling her appetite diminish she walked slowly up the stairs and into her room.

"Bing"!

Opal looked over to her desktop to see she had just received and email.

"I wonder"?

She muttered thinking on who would be sending her and email. Obviously no one from school she mused.

To: Opal Kendrick

From: PenPal

Sub: Your little purse;)

Hello Opal, or with that hair I think I'll call you Brownie. So brownie if you want this purse back-

Opal hurried to glance around her room. Her purse! She left it at the school. So she was being followed. She gasped and read on.

Brownie your so predictable I know you just looked around for your purse. And now your wondering if you should tell your father. You shouldn't. Don't want to worry him would you. And besides Brownie I'm harmless. You want this purse back. Fine. All I want, is for you to be my pen-pal.

Yours truly,

Your pen-pal

Ps; I love your name Opal Rene Kendrick.

Opal sat their stunned. She has a stalker, well pen-pal. And she wasn't the least bit scared. Because she actually liked the thought of it. Which was the real scary part about.

Pen-pal

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

This is chapter 2, so if you haven't read the first 1 be sure to check it out!

The light streamed through Opal Kendrick's window creating streams of sunshine shining down on her face. "Oh", she sighed to herself.

"I had the craziest dream".

She walked into her bathroom feeling a confidence she hadn't felt in well forever. She looked in the mirror and made the spontaneous decision to curl her hair. Thirty minutes or so later she looked at her reflection and couldn't believe it was her staring back in the mirror. She applied a pink lip stick to her full lips then a bit of clear gloss. Her blemish free skin was always her best quality and she didn't have foundation anyways so she walked into her bedroom and headed to the closet. Her clothes were more comfortable than stylish so she bypassed all her clothes and headed to the box of her mothers old clothes. The clothes and more the scent of them gave Opal a sense of her mother she so often longed for and as she searched around the box she settled on some gray leggings and a navy cardigan she could put with a tank top and her gray Uggs. Her outfit on she looked in the mirror and couldn't make the tears stop. She was the image of her mother. And that both warmed her heart and broke it. Stopping the fountain of tears she packed her books up grabbed her phone and started looking for her purse. It was nowhere to be found. Sending a glance to the clock she had enough time to check her hunch. She sat at her desktop and opened her email. Sure enough the email was real but even more to her suprise there was another one.

To: Brownie

From: Pen-pal

Sub- you

See you at school. Well I will, you don't know who I am. Just call me Pen-pal. I'm expecting a email from you tonight. Send it and we can arrange you picking up your purse. Don't well you can kiss this purse goodbye.

Yours truly,

Pen-pal

So it wasn't a dream. It was true. Opal grabbed her backpack, and ran down the stairs. Breakfast along with a note from her father about how he needed to get to the office early were on the counter. Grabbing some toast she opened the door and started the walk to school.

~Ten minutes later~

Entering the halls filled with people Opal's head automatically went down. Her theory being if you don't look they won't make fun of you. Though a false theory it hurt less not to see yourself being the center of many harsh jokes.

"Opal, right"?

Opal looked up to see a boy she hadn't really noticed before talking to her. He was talking to her!

"Y-yes".

She answered bringing her blue eyes up to his green ones.

"You look different, a good different. See ya around."

"See ya".

She said her voice a whisper. He smiled at her again as he walked by and left her stunned. Needing to get to her locker she walked the hall. The same hall she walked last night. But this time with a new air about her. She held her head up and smiled. And she received smiles to! She got to her locker and opened it. She seen a flutter in the corner of her eye and watched a paper fall from her locker. She bent down and picked it up beginning to read it.

Brownie-

You look good. Is it for me?

-yours truly

-pen-pal

She stuck the not into her bag and continued to class. She walked in seconds before the bell rung. Instinctively she had her head down but she heard her name.

"Opal".

She looked to see Cassidy Fisher, Angelina Carson and Britney Lawson waving her over. They bullied some girl out of their table and invited her to sit down. She did and class went by as usual. Except she was sitting at the popular table.

Opal's first three classes ended and she headed to her locker to grab her lunch. She opened the locker and locker and looked for another note. Disappointed she closed her locker to see Asher Wheatley standing there.

"Opal right?"

"Yeah hello."

"You wanna have lunch,I'll buy".

"Sure".

He grabbed her lunch box in his hand then used his other one to hold hers as they walked to the lunch room.

She barley remembered walking there all she new that she was sitting at the table with Cassidy, Angelina and Britney. Asher handed her the lunch box and went of to buy his own.

"Girl!!!! He is totes in to you". Head nods all around showed that they all agreed. She blushed and looked down. Feeling a tap on her shoulders she smiled up thinking Asher was back but three girls and a boy were behind Opal with very intimating looks on their faces.

"Ewww, leave"!

Cassidy said her noes up in disgust.

Relieved Opal seen Asher set his tray down and stair the strange group down.

"Leave!"

Asher demanded leaving no room for question.

"Make us".

The boy said pushing Asher.

Enraged Asher punched the boy who then came after them.

"Ahhh", Cassidy yelled grabbing Opals arm. She had just enough time to grab her lunch box before they ran out of the cafeteria. The others girls were talking about the fight while Opal stood their shocked. Their was a note on her lunch box.

You are my confidence brownie. I gave it to you. I told you I was harmless but that will change if I see you with this Asher character again.

She only saw the concerned looks of Britney, Cassidy and Angelina as her world blurred and she went down.