Page 12

Twelve

Ezra

August 5, 2017

M y very own journal. Wowzers, I’ve always wanted one of these! You can call me Mark Twain, baby.

Yeah…no one is reading this shit. I don’t care what Paul the supreme ruler of the fuck-up empire told us. I’m going to guard it with my life, and at the end of my time here, I’m going to burn it.

I’m at Alton, if you can’t tell. Whoever YOU are. I guess no one. Pretty sure they’re never going to check these things. There’s no reason to write anything at all, except I can’t sleep.

Anyway, today was the day. Got on a plane that flew from Richmond to the Bangor Airport in Maine. Some curly-haired woman in a white T-shirt with “Alton Academy” on the pocket was waiting for me right there where I got off the plane- just in case I tried to run.

We waited around for almost four hours as a bunch of other fuck ups flew in. One of the planes came from Brazil, so I guess they’ve got some fuck ups there, too.

Anyway, us fuck ups got on a bus. Regular yellow bus, but not doing regular bus stuff. We had assigned seats. They gave us bag lunches, like a third grade field trip. They had wavy chips and everything.

The bus drove us way out into the boonies. The Allagash Wilderness is what it’s called. We’re in a forest- a real one- right up at the Maine-Canada border.

Woods for miles and miles, crisscrossed by little streams and creeks and at least one big river.

Was it how I thought it would be? I don’t know. And you don’t care. Cause you’re not a person, are you?

I will say- it was cold. As soon as the sun started to go down, it didn’t feel like summer anymore.

The road we were on was really narrow, like it’s just for one car at a time. But it was paved. I wish I could remember if it was a county road or what, but that doesn’t matter. I’m not trying to escape. They told us there’s a big fence all around the place. Like prison.

Looking out the bus windows before it got dark, we saw some people rafting on the river and a few cabins here and there. But for most of the way, it was just woods. These are different than the stuff back in Virginia. Different trees. More conifers, I think, or maybe they’re called evergreens? It’s dense and dark, like something from a fairy tale. Lots of ivy and this forest floor that’s got a lot of…bush-type stuff. You feel like you could get lost here.

I figure the bus ride was a fitting start. Everything started in a bus, didn’t it? Buses ruined my life and then this bus drove me up here where I’m supposed to fix it.

Bottom line- it doesn’t matter. All of that shit’s in the past now.

All I need to focus on is moving forward. Even Coach Bert is in on the plan. I promised him I’ll work the program here as fast as possible, hopefully in just a few weeks. Then I’ll be back. I’m not the first one from my school to go to Alton Academy. “Academy.” - note the quotations.

On paper, it’ll look like I tried a new school and didn’t like it, so I transferred back to Beechwood Christian. Sounds like nbd, right?

I keep thinking about Smithson starting as QB. All the scouts coming to see me senior year, and I’m not there. Because I’m here.

Sometimes I can’t believe this happened at all. But it’s what I deserve. After this past year, something had to change.

I helped pick this place and I agreed to come here. Now just get through. And get back to my starting spot.