Disclaimer: Meg Cabot owns Jessica Mastriani and Rob Wilkins, unfortunately, but I own everyone else!
Summary: My whole world had changed. Everything I loved was taken away in the time span of about ten minutes. I'm writing the events that took place in my dairy, about the time I was placed in the Witness Protection Program.
Allen Pitt: Thanks for the support…and for that idea: it's a good one, don't be surprised if I end up using it.
NayClem: Thanks so much!
Querida1607: Sorry!
sing-to-the-stars: Yes, the FBI people are evil and yes I did tear the perfect couple apart.
Melissa Corbin: Thanks for reviewing.
The Setting Sun: Wink back at you.
jenna: Thanks for the compliment and the rating. And I totally agree with you about diary entries, but I like doing things my own way. And I hope you keep enjoying this story.
the only –LGS-: Goober thanks!
Loony Loony Loony Luna: Please, keep reading.
maliaphire: Oh, you know, the FBI and their surveillance techniques. Conspiracies I say.
dontcry4me: Thanks for the compliment and about your deletion, I'm sorry, but I believe that as long as you don't give out any personal information in your reviews, you really won't be stalked online. And you reviewed anonymously and you've never said any kind of personal information. My advice: stop being so Goddamn paranoid, yes there are bad people, but most people who end up getting hurt put themselves in that position.
Witness Protection
Insert Life
Dear Diary/ Journal Thing:
Do you know that movie with the two psychic kids, twins I think they were, and they found each other at an orphanage and ran away to escape the evil people chasing them? It was one of my favorite movies growing up. It was just so cute. They could communicate telepathically and they could move things through telekinesis. Then they found that one guy who could help them and he ended up sending them to another planet with other twins like them and the evil people couldn't hurt them anymore. I sort of feel like that. I mean, without the whole twin thing of course. I fit the bill. 1. I'm psychic (well, I'm a different kind of psychic from them, but I think we can call that a given) 2. I have evil people chasing me (they like to call themselves the FBI, HA, I laugh) 3. I have found the one guy would could help me (unfortunately, the FBI took him away when he was trying to save me). And that is why I never believe that movies are real life children. The story fits, but the ending just never happens. Damn Hollywood getting peoples hopes up and then squashing all those hopes like little bugs under their enormously large corporate feet. (Breath)
Anyway, I haven't seen Rob since the FBI dragged him into that van. I don't know where they've taken him nor do I know if he's even okay. It's my fault really. I never should have gotten him involved with all this.
They took me back to my "house." Then they talked to me for hours. I'm serious. I arrived at the place a little after two. I looked at the clock every ten minutes until about nine. That's seven hours of talking. They were telling me about how I am this important figure and they need me and I can't go doing stunts like that. We argued, blah, blah, blah. I ended up staring into space after a while. I thought about Rob…and that kiss. That kiss was the first one in a long time. I mean, I know we had gotten closer after what happened at Thanksgiving, but he was still reluctant to get into a relationship with me. So that kiss…God. He expressed everything that he had been feeling this past week in that kiss. His happiness that I was safe, his confusion about what had happened to me, his anger at the FBI, the worry he had felt when I was gone, the love he felt for me. It was all there.
Of course, I could see right through the FBI. They don't care about me or Rob. All they care about these stupid powers I have. Rob was interfering. The FBI wants to use me for their own little games and Rob interfered with that. So, he was taken away. Or he was "dealt with accordingly" whichever you prefer.
I actually tried to get them to tell me where he was, but they weren't deterred. By midnight I was starting to feel drained. The brother had already come and gone to bed. He couldn't help laughing at my predicament onto which I sucker punched the little brat. The parents had come home, eaten, and gone to bed. They saw that I was in trouble and still left me with the FBI. Yeah, great parents they are. So, I stood up and went into "my room." Of course, I felt worse when I went in there. It was exactly like home, without being home. And for the first time in my life I threw myself on me bed and started sobbing into the pillow.
Hesitant voice: Jess?
I hiccup: What do you want?
I hear her footsteps coming closer and I turned my head away: Jess, I know we seem like we're only doing this to make you miserable, but there is a reason for all this.
Me: Listen, I told you I would help you find all of your stupid mass murderers, but did you really have to go and take me away from my home, my family, Rob! I'm sorry Jill, but as long as you do this to me, I won't help you.
Jill: W-What?
Me: You heard what I said. I want to go home. I want to be with my family and my boyfriend. I'm not doing anything, and that includes being "Lightning Girl" until you fix this.
Jill: There's nothing I can do Jess.
Me: And that's why I'm doing something. (Chuckle) I never was cooperative and if you expected that, well, you're in for a surprise. I'm sick of this shit. I'm only sixteen years old for God's sake.
Jill: (Sigh) Jess, you have to understand where we're coming from-
Me: NO I DON'T! YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND WHERE I'M COMING FROM. I WANT TO GO HOME AND EITHER YOU DO THAT OR I'M NOT PLAYING YOUR GAME ANYMORE.
Then she left. I didn't move for a while. During the argument I had gotten off my bed with my tearstained face and stood right in front of her face. She looked down in my eyes and I stared into hers so she could see my pain. I think she's starting to understand though. Well, now I'm going to bed. I have to go to school again tomorrow.
xxx
After much debate, the FBI decided that I would continue my studies and the psuedo-life I've been living. But I now have a new friend to go along with it. Yes, that's right. He's my new FBI escort, a.k.a. Agent James O'Brien, or as I call him Jimmy. He's this 6'2" guy with a really deep voice but doesn't talk a lot. And he's been hired to follow me around 24/7 to make sure I stay out of trouble. I think he must have done something pretty bad to land himself this job, but he says he has no problem with it. Hmm, maybe the FBI isn't as great as it's cracked up to be.
At school, he-Jimmy I mean-followed me into my classrooms and stood at the door. I asked him once if it hurt his legs, you know standing up all the time, but he just grunted in response. The other students were shocked at first. And in each class they all made me explain why I had an FBI escort. Then I had to go over the while Witness-Protection-thing-but-the-FBI-wants-to-use-me-as-their-own-personal-weapon-against-the-America's-most-wanted-list-but-I-didn't-want-to-do-it-and-the-FBI-is-taking-drastic-measures. I also told everyone to call me Jess seeing as how Jamie really didn't exist. Then this one kid, his name was Paul-I think, started ranting about government conspiracies. And of course everyone looked at me with sympathy. I have to say I hate that emotion, sympathy. Sympathy-the ability to share the feelings of another, especially in sorrow or trouble; compassion; commiseration. None of these people have been through what I have, so how would they understand enough to feel sorry for me. Stupid people. Stupid emotion.
So now my life is fulfilled. I'm finally in control of the government. And I don't think there's anything I can do about it.
Later,
Jamica Marstriani
Me: So, what's cooking in the pot?
Evil Witch: Oh, that my pretty is your life boiling away to nothing.
Me: Great, just great.
Evil Witch: (Evil cackle)