My eyes peek open and realize that Jean is shaking me. His eyes are hurried. “What?” I say blearily.
“C’mon! Let’s go, get your bag!” Jean demanded. I slid my bag into my arms and found my balance. Jean put me into mini-van and heavily placed his foot on the gas. The speed of the car was not perfect for resting.
I turned around to see a monster tornado running towards us. It was ripping weeds and such out of the ground.
To fasten the car, Jean placed a boulder on the gas, and we began to go at the least one hundred fifty miles per hour. We were cutting wind as my eyelids went heavy. Yet, I still couldn’t sleep.
So, I pulled out my diary.
Dear Diary, SEPTEMBER 1ST
A gigantic Tornado is stalking us. I am not scared, rather sleepy; I know we’ll make it. Along with that, Jean doesn’t look the least bit concerned; it is the reason why I am so calm.
Honestly, I just want to rest, once we find safe grounds, I am going to sleep until afternoon. Jean, if there isn’t anything happening, is, in no way allowed to wake me up whatsoever.
Jean tells me that we will be at our destination shortly, so, I shall say goodbye, but before that I will say:
Mother and Father, I miss you, and if this diary is published and what not, I want to say, I miss you.
With all due respect,
Halle Francesca Burner
Jean brakes at a campsite. A fire is burning in the middle of the tents, lighting the whole area. I blearily jump out of the car.
Jean set up camp and welcomed me to sleep. I crawled in and rested my mind. “What are you doing?” Jean asked quietly.
“Sleeping,” I whispered with confusion. Jean turned his back on me and clutched a sandwich. He’s waking me up just to eat a sandwich? I stammered to myself.
To my surprise, he didn’t eat it. “Not on an empty stomach.” Jean slowing pushed the sandwich in my mouth and told me to chew; it was tuna, my favorite. I chewed the sandwich rather gradually, but Jean didn’t seem to mind. After I finished, Jean sat me up and helped me drink some water.
When it was over, I went to sleep, hearing Jean devouring a sandwich himself.
In the morning, Jean and I ate our breakfast. “Hey Jean, do you think I could change clothes or you know wash my hair?”
Jean sat back,” Well, I could wash your hair, and you can’t undress outside, so.”
I sighed. Finally, I gathered all of my courage and unbuttoned my blouse, and fortunately, Jean was turning away. I wiggled out of my jeans and unhooked the clasp of my bra. I slipped out of my panties, and suddenly realized I needed to bathe.
“Hey Jean?” Jean peeked his eye open to see a towel tightly wrapped around my body.
“Can I bathe?”
Jean grabbed my hand and pulled me outside. We went into the woods, finding several buckets full of water, a curtain giving it protection. I stepped in, shut the curtain, and placed my towel on the rack beside me. I turned on the water and steamed water flowed out.
The water was striking my shivering skin, and it was relaxing. When finishing, I stepped out. My clothes were clean and fresh, thanks to the soap. Jean took me hand and led me to our small tent.
As I entered, I noticed a pale gray sliver, shining in the sunlight. I recognized it to be a brand new Apple Mac Pro. I stared at it in awe, wishing to press the keys, to type. Jean caught me gazing at the computer, slipped it out slowly, teasing me. Surprisingly, Jean slid it over to me.” It’s solar powered.”
I nodded and opened it, and hit the power button. The screen came on, the gray apple showing. I clicked on Pages. I was elated to see the typing page.
Later that day, I turned the computer off and thanked Jean. I still ached to write so I found my pencil and diary.
Dear Diary, SEPTEMEBER 2ND
I am so happy with Jean at the moment, he let me type, something I ached to do for these past few days. Usually, I have a decent respect for Jean, but now it’s unspeakable.
Also, in a way it makes me like him even more.
Yes, maybe to some, it’s a despicable to do such, but here’s why:
1. His looks
2. His bravery
3. His jokes, which come very often
4. His protective side
All of those are respectable reasons. Well I better read this before Jean does.
With all due respect,
Halle Francesca Burner
I peek my eyes open to see Jean, skimming through my diary. My most recent one. I tap him; he turns to me a satisfactory smirk on his face.
He leans towards me and locks lips with me. I held my breath, stilling kissing Jean. This moment lasts for about three minutes.
Jean pulls away and slips between me. His hand rested calmly on my waist, I didn’t mind. We drift off.
© Copyright 2016 Fern Snecker. All rights reserved.