Mohsin_Ali_6150

September 4
 Dear Diary,
 Something awful is going to happen today.
 I don't know why I wrote that. It's crazy. There'sno reason for me to be upset and every reason
for me to be happy, but…
 But here I am at 5:30 in the morning, awake and scared. I keep telling myself it's just that I'm all
messed up from the time difference between France and here. But that doesn't explain why I feel
so scared. So lost.
 The day before yesterday, while Aunt Judith and Margaret and I were driving back from the
airport, I had such a strange feeling. When we turned onto our street I suddenly thought, "Mom
and Dad are waiting for us at home. I bet they'll be on the front porch or in the living room
looking out the window. They must have missed me so much."
 I know. That sounds totally crazy.
 But even when I saw the house and the empty front porch I still felt that way. I ran up the steps
and I tried the door and knocked with the knocker. And when Aunt Judith unlocked the door I
burst inside and just stood in the hallway listening, expecting to hear Mom coming down the stairs
or Dad calling from the den.
 Just then Aunt Judith let a suitcase crash down on the floor behind me and sighed a huge sigh
and said, "We're home." And Margaret laughed. And the most horrible feeling I've ever felt in my
life came over me. I've never felt so utterly and completely lost.
 Home. I'm home. Why does that sound like a he?
 I was born here in Fell's Church. I've always lived in this house, always. This is my same old
bedroom, with the scorch mark on the floorboards where Caroline and I tried to sneak cigarettes
in 5th grade and nearly choked ourselves. I can look out the window and see the big quince tree
Matt and the guys climbed up to crash my birthday slumber party two years ago. This is my bed,

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Volume 1