It was a particularly chilly and dark morning as Rosalinda took her usual Saturday morning stroll. She noticed the clouds hung lower than normal as they blanketed the narrow street ahead of her. Even the big, strong oak trees lining the curbs seemed to be weakened by the chilly, autumn air of Boston. Although the previous days were filled with great sunshine and pleasant breezes, Rosalinda quickly shrugged off the dark and lonely scene before her as she continued on to her destination. She was making her way home when something caught her eye. As she pulled her curly, brown hair into a bun, she noticed that a vintage store had replaced the old restaurant across from her house where she and her family dined just two weeks prior for her sixteenth birthday. She decided to enter the store and browse around since she still had about forty-five dollars left over from her birthday money.

The store was quite small from the inside and smelled of burnt ashes. The walls were painted maroon and on each corner of the walls laid a dream catcher. Rosalinda walked up and down the aisles, thoroughly scanning each wooden shelf when she came across a journal that seemed to interest her. She carefully took the journal from its glass stand and observed the cover. It was of a deep purple color, made of leather, and it seemed to glisten even in the darkness surrounding her. Each page on the inside was blank, but lined with gold. There was something powerful yet mysterious that drew Rosalinda to this journal. She took the journal to the front desk and inquired about the cost.

The cashier’s eyes widened at the sight of the journal as she asked, “You want that? That was meant to stay in the boxes. How about I sell you this mug instead?”

She held out a mug to Rosalinda with her wrinkled hand. She must have been in her seventies, had white hair and a broken tooth, and wore dirty rags for clothing.

Rosalinda pushed back the old woman’s hand and said, “No, I want the journal. Can you tell me the price please?”

The old woman sighed and placed down the mug near her cash register.

“I can sell it to you for thirty-seven dollars,” she replied. “But…”

Before she could finish, Rosalinda handed her forty dollars, told the old woman to keep the change, and walked away.

“Now wait right there, child!” she yelled at Rosalinda. “Be careful what you write in that journal!” The old woman coughed and continued, “There is no going

back!”

Rosalinda finally got home and ignored the words of the old woman. She made her way to the kitchen and grabbed an apple when she saw her parents sitting

down, both looking worried.

“Rosalinda! Where have you been?” her mother exclaimed.

Her straight, brown hair was tied up high and her black eyes stared widely at her daughter.

“We have been worried sick all morning!”

Rosalinda looked at her in confusion. Was she really about to cry?

“Mom, I went on my morning walk as usual. I even left you a note on the refrigerator.” Rosalinda pointed at the paper on the fridge that read:

Mom, Dad, I’m out for my morning walk. Will be back soon.

Upon examining the note her father intervened, “Rosy, didn’t we agree that you can’t just go out whenever you please? The next time you leave without verbally telling us and getting our permission, you will be grounded. Why do I always have to repeat myself?”

This was not fair to Rosalinda. Her friends were allowed to go out whenever they liked without their parents having to yell at them. Why did it always have to be Rosalinda?

“Seriously, why do you still treat me like I’m five! I don’t need you guys around to help me! I can live on my own!” Rosalinda argued.

She slammed the apple back on the table when her father grabbed her hand.

“Rosy, don’t you dare-”

She yanked her arm free, ran to her room, and locked the door.

Frustrated with her parents, she furiously grabbed a pen and immediately started writing in her brand new journal.

My parents don’t get me. They don’t give me any freedom. I wish they would just disappear, that way I could do what I want…

She then slammed the journal down on her dresser and sat on her bed. After what seemed to be a few hours, Rosalinda began to think about the things that she said to her parents. For some reason, she felt guilty and decided to go back downstairs and apologize. She made her way to the kitchen, that being the place where she would expect her parents to be at the moment. There was, however, no sign of her parents in the kitchen. She then went into the living room, and her parents were still not to be found. In a panic, Rosalinda checked the dining room, backyard, and front yard, and her parents were still missing. Then something hit her, something that felt as if she just got punched in the stomach. Her parents disappeared and Rosalinda got her wish. She then remembered the old woman who sold her the journal and how she told Rosalinda to be careful with what she wrote in the journal. It never occurred to Rosalinda that the woman tried to warn her. She immediately ran to her room to take back what she wrote. As Rosalinda grabbed her journal and a pen, she saw something fall to the floor from the corner of her eye. It was a note written to Rosalinda by her mother. Scared, Rosalinda quickly opened it with one hand while the other tightly held her journal.

Dear Rosy,

You have grown up to be a lovely young lady. Never have you disappointed me or your father. We both love you so much and you mean the world to us. To lose you would be a nightmare and I could never imagine a life without you. You are the highlight of my life and I love you so much.

Lots of Love, Your Mom.

An ache unlike any other took over and Rosalinda began to sob. She needed her mom, she wanted her dad, and yet both were gone. With desperation, she opened her journal and began writing.

“I love my parents so, so much! I wish my parents back, I need them. Please.”

She held herself tightly as she lay on her bed, sobbing, wishing she was a better child to her parents. She waited and waited for a sign that her parents had returned but only silence followed. For what felt like almost a year without her mom and dad, she finally heard whispers coming from the kitchen. Tightly holding her journal, she ran down as fast as she could, relieved yet still shaken.

There she was! There he was! Both were sitting down at the kitchen table eating soup and talking.

“Mom! Dad!” Rosalinda ran and hugged her mom so tightly that her hands became numb. She then hugged her dad and explained how sorry she was.

“You guys, I’m so, so sorry. I love you-”

With a look of confusion and fear her father cut her off, “Get out. We’ll call the police if you don’t leave. Go!”

Her mother quickly got out of her seat and grabbed a phone.

“Dad, I see you still haven’t lost your sense of humor. And Mom,” she laughed as she looked over at her mother. “This is the part where you tell him that pranks are not funny and it’s not okay to joke like that.” Her mother looked panicked as she held the phone to her ear.

“Are you guys okay?” Rosalinda asked, sensing that something was wrong.

“Who are you? We don’t have a child. How did you get in here? If you don’t leave I will need to call the police!” her mother screamed.

Stunned and shocked, Rosalinda slowly backed away. The two people standing before her were her parents yet they seemed not to remember. Rosalinda looked deep into their eyes and realized that the eyes that once loved her seemed to be replaced with emptiness. She shed a tear, one as heavy as the ocean.

“Why isn’t she leaving? Get her out!” her mother yelled hysterically.

Through her tears, Rosalinda repeated, “I’ve always loved you guys and I always will.”

Looking down at her glistening journal still in her hands, she shuddered while dropping it to the floor. Overcome with emotion and regret, Rosalinda took one last look at her parents who forgot who she was. Sobbing, with nowhere else to go, she ran out into the dark, empty streets of Boston.

She could not help but notice that the sky was black and the stars shined a bright silver in the sky. Lights flickered out on the streets while the silence filled the air. The big, strong oak trees swayed back and forth in unison with the wind as this lonely, young girl ran in agony for the loss of her parents, mourning the way things used to be.