~ The Diary ~
by BlueMoonWriter

Disclaimers: Mine, all mine.

Violence: None.

Love/Sex: Yep, of the female kind.

Comments: I really do love feedback, please send me some. Even if you don't have anything to say, just send one to say hi, would love to hear from you J bmoonwriter@yahoo.com

I bought a house two days ago. I know it's kind of strange for that to be the first thing you learn about me, but hey, I'm still trying to get used to the idea of having a house of my own, myself. It's not very big, more like spread out. It has one floor, three bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and a pool?the bare essentials. I've only moved in today so I'm still a bit disoriented when it comes to the house and everything in it. Well actually, there's nothing in it. It's empty and only now, as I walk through the house, I realize just how many things I still need to buy. I'll probably just fill it with my old junk and make it look very much like my old house. Why buy a new one, you ask? Well, because I got tired of the old one; its spirits didn't like me. Now don't laugh, every house has its own unique spirit. I wonder what lies behind this one.

Walking around the place, my eyes crawl along the barren walls, stripped of some kind of wallpaper. A few lamps had survived the move of the early owners and a couple of closets still decorated two of the bedrooms. 'I'll have to look through them to see if they're worth keeping.'

I go to the bathroom and look around. It's the only place of color in the entire house. It's painted a bright blue that makes my eyes squint. I glare into the mirror hanging on the bathroom wall, just to receive a hard glare back. My blue eyes are a bit bloodshot from exertion and I detect a faint tinge of darkness under my eyes. I smile at my reflection and am rewarded with a pearly white shine. My white t-shirt is loosely tucked into my blue jeans and I notice that I have lost a bit of weight, making my lanky form seem even more so. I'm not too sure if I'm interested in that model look or not.

Forgoing my perusal for another day, I move into the kitchen in search of something to eat. 'Thinking of models always makes me hungry, I don't know why that is.' I search through the remaining cabinets but find nothing. "Now I know why that mouse was running out of the house instead of in," I mumble to myself. My stomach is grumbling in protest, but I think I can manage till I find the phone directory. Rummaging through some of my still packed things, I find the directory and flip it open. Looking for a good Chinese restaurant, I pick a winner and dial from my cellular. I give my order and hang up the phone, my stomach rumbling in thanks. I decide to at least get some work done while I wait for my food to arrive. When I say work I mean unpacking, of course.

If you're wondering what I do for a living though, I'm a writer. I don't consider that work because to me, it's much more than that. If I do happen to perceive my writing as a chore one of these days, I'm afraid I would have to stop. You see, I was born lazy, nothing you can do against that.

Anyhow, as I was browsing through my things, I found the box I had so helpfully marked "My Things" in great big letters. If that doesn't clue you in as to what is in that box, I sure don't know what will.

I opened the box and surprisingly enough, found my things inside. Picking the box up, I howled it over to the room I decided would become the master bedroom. It was probably the largest of the three with a nicely-sized private bathroom. It had probably belonged to the parents of a family, at one time or another.

I placed the box down and looked around. A lone armoire stood in one corner of the room. My bed, hopefully, would be arriving sometime today, in case you were wondering on what I was planning on sleeping tonight. Walking to the armoire, I opened the middle cabinet and looked around. It was empty and smelled of stale dust. Yes, stale dust actually has a smell.

Opening the drawers, one by one, I decided to start arranging my things inside. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, kind of like my writing. I decided I liked the armoire and desired to keep it. After working diligently at putting my things in their new place, I straightened up and sighed. My body was beginning to protest and I had to take its side on this matter. It had been a long few minutes of hard labor. Leaving the slight mess I had made behind, I walked out of the room and entered another. The color on the walls seemed to be fading, making it unclear as to its original color. My mind immediately conjured up all sorts of images and thoughts. Who lived here before, who did this room belong to? Walking to the closet left in the room, I decided to explore it as well, on the off chance that something was left inside. I searched through all the drawers twice and came up with nothing. I even took one of the drawers out because I thought I saw something hidden in its depths. You really don't want to know what I had found. When I bent down to push the drawer back in, I felt something bump into the drawer, keeping me from pushing it inside as my poor back demanded. I pulled the drawer out again and placed it on the floor. Bending down to take a better look, I noticed something. I put my hand inside blindly, hoping that it wouldn't meet with anything that moves and grabbed the offending object. It was a smallish, leather-bound, notebook. Taking it with me to the living room, I dusted it off.

I was just in time too, since my lunch decided to ring the doorbell at exactly that moment. I opened the door, tipped the guy and took my food eagerly, ignoring the shocked and slightly scared look on the delivery man's face. What? I was hungry!

Opening the containers, I delved inside as I opened the notebook and took a seat on one of the boxes. On the front page of the notebook was scrolled in somewhat childish lettering, "Jeanie's Diary."

"Hmm?" I hummed to myself in interest. 'I wonder who this Jeanie is and why she left her diary here. I sure wouldn't leave mine behind.' I smirked.

Taking a bite out of my food, I began reading. The first few entries were fairly regular for a diary. Someone, a child, trying it out, soaking her feet in instead of jumping head first. As I read further, I realized this girl, Jeanie, had forgotten about her diary at some point in her life and regained her interest in it only much later. The writing had matured and as I learned first hand, so did the subject matter. One passage in particular piqued my interest.

"Dear Diary, I've had the strangest dream last night. It's not that I don't remember it, it's worse, I do. I don't know where it came from or why, but I haven't felt that way in?ever. It started out pretty normal; I was in my bedroom, wearing my pj's, getting ready for bed when suddenly someone came into the room. I can't believe I'm actually putting this in writing, but I just have to get it off my chest, it's eating me up. I know I'm blushing, but bare with me.

The person that came in, I couldn't see their face at first and so I smiled and turned to face them. Then I could see her face, she had the most amazing blue eyes I had ever seen. They're still so vivid, so alive in my mind, I don't think I could ever forget them, or her, and that's what I'm most afraid of. I remember looking into her face and being mesmerized. She was really breathtaking. She was tall too, really tall and I had to tilt my head back just to look into her eyes when she came closer. She didn't say a word and neither did I. I just stood there, nailed to the spot, unmoving, un-breathing. She came closer and I gulped, even in my dream. I remember that I smiled though, when she put her arms around me and pulled me into a hug. Then, just as suddenly we were on my bed. Or, some bed, I'm not sure. We were naked.

Oh God, I'll have to hide this notebook real well.

She was sitting up in the middle of the bed and I was sitting in her lap, our bodies tangled. Her knees were supporting my back and I leaned on them just to gaze into those blue pools again. They had darkened, becoming almost violet in their intensity. She had a certain look in her eyes that I can now describe as hunger, and something else, I'm not sure.

She pulled me forward, to her lips, and kissed me. She was so soft, I could practically feel it. I can still feel it somehow. Her lips were?what's the word, luscious. I never thought I'd be able to describe anything with that word. I guess all that reading I've been doing has paid up. The kiss was sensual, I've never felt anything quite like that. She was caressing me with her lips, with her tongue, playing with mine. She pulled my body closer and as the kiss deepened so did our contact. Her body started moving against me, slowly, rocking back and forth. Her tongue in my mouth took on the same methodical movement. I could feel her everywhere, my skin was tingling. I felt like I was made of pure nerves, everything she did, everywhere she touched, the impact was twice as intense. Our rocking increased and I started panting. The kiss was slowly stealing my breath away. I wrapped my arms around her neck and tangled my hands in her thick black hair, pulling her closer, deeper into the kiss. There were only us, me and her, in our own little world. I knew nothing but her and cared to know about nothing but her. And it felt like she didn't care about anything else either. As she pressed her beautiful body closer to mine, if that was possible, she held me as though I was the most precious thing in the world. Her soft, large hands caressed down my back, slowly running her blunt nails against my sensitized skin. When I felt I couldn't take it anymore, I kissed her all that much harder and rocked against her like there was no tomorrow. She gave me air and she gave me wings. My body trembled as it never had in real life. I was completely consumed. I didn't want to let her go and that is what scares me.

I woke up with sweat dotting my forehead and with my pj's sticking to my body. I don't know what to do, I've never felt this way before. And I don't know if I ever will again.

Thanks for listening.

Love, Jeanie."

I swallowed thickly and ran my fingers through my hair. 'Wow, why do I suddenly have an impossible urge for a cigarette?' I knew I was blushing, but didn't really care since no one was around. I don't get flustered that easily, but that girl's writing along with the unstoppable visual I got, made my heart beat double time. I closed the notebook and laid it down on one of the other boxes. I had to have a drink of water before going back to that.

The doorbell then decided to ring. I walked to the door, frowning in wonder as to who that may be, since no one I knew lived around and I didn't know anyone from around. Looking through the peephole, I saw a sweet looking blonde woman with sparkling green eyes, standing with her hands tucked into a tight pair of jeans, waiting. I smiled and straightened out my clothes. I didn't mind getting to know that cute blonde though.

I opened the door and smiled in greeting, "Hi. May I help you?" I asked politely. 'Please,' I added to myself.

The blonde smiled, two dimples winking at me from beautiful, rosy cheeks. "Hi. I know this may sound strange, but can I look around the house?" At my look of dismay, she quickly elaborated, "I used to live here when I was little and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought what the hey, maybe I'll take my chances and try to coax the new owner into letting me take a trip down memory lane." She smiled charmingly.

I frowned and paused in wonder for a moment, but quickly shook my head. When I saw the crestfallen look on my cute guest's face, I raised a hand to stop her from leaving, rapidly saying, "Sure, no problem. When did you live here? I actually moved in today." I moved aside to allow the happy young woman inside and closed the door. "I'm sorry, where are my manners, I'm Danny." I offered my hand and smiled at the hearty handshake I received.

"I'm Jeanie."

Oh my God!

The End (or is it?)


Bluemoonwriter's Scrolls
Main Page