DDsE, Book 1

By Sue Perry

Being sixteen is Tupac Eminem. Ella has no one to talk to except her new diary, which she has to hide from Ma and Pa Warden, the foster parents she’s stuck with since her family got flattened in a car accident. Now that she lives with the wardens, she has to switch to a new school, where people act like her tragedy is contagious. Her new suburb is just as boring as the last, and offers no hope of secret passageways or magic. But life is not all bad. There’s an interesting boy at the new school – although his family turns out to be impossibly dangerous. And there’s a feral cat, living in the suburb’s only open space, a pitiful excuse for woods. Sometimes the cat invades Ella’s mind. She tells her diary, ‘I’ve gone a special kind of crazy, a split personality. And my other personality is a cat, not a person.’

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sue Perry
• Release date: Feb 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370384013

Sue Perry

... Concert stage, dark except for a deep blue spotlight. Singer drops to one knee and his narration evolves from murmur to rant. "This is the story of a man who got what he wanted but he lost what he had. He got what he wanted but he lost what he had. He got –" ...It goes on forever. It's mesmerizing. Uncomfortable. Confessional.Pretty sure this memory is from the time I saw James Brown, decades ago, but the lost identity of the singer isn't the point.I've spent my life gazing across some fence or other, admiring greener grass over yonder. I've acted on so many impulses to jump the fence. No complaints, but it has sure taken me a long time to appreciate where I'm standing right now. And nowadays that blue spotlight chant fills my head whenever I contemplate a new jump.Sometimes I jump back.I was a low–budget television producer until I wrote a psychological thriller, "Was It A Rat I Saw", which Bantam–Doubleday–Dell published in hardcover in 1992. Soon after that I became the mother of twins, jumped into graduate school, and became a disaster scientist. I dabbled in academia, government research, and consulting.I stopped writing fiction for nearly two decades, until I noticed how much I missed it. I resumed writing novels with the literary fiction "Scar Jewelry" about a family with secrets that started in the era of Los Angeles punk and persist for decades. I'm in the midst of a speculative detective series FRAMES, with "Nica of Los Angeles", "Nica of the New Yorks", and "Boredom Fighter" so far. I've just completed a nine-novella series, the young adult paranormal horror romance, "DDsE".Funny. Back in the day, I had a single book idea at a time. Now I'm flooded with them, can't keep up with them, though I write just about every day.I live in southern California. I had to leave for five years to confirm this is where I belong. I live with multiple cats, comfortably close to my twins and granddaughter. Like my life paths, my friends and family are all over the damn place. I like to visit them, spend time at the ocean, explore cities, and go out to hear live music.

Book preview

DDsE

Book 1

Sue Perry

Copyright 2017 Sue Perry.

Published by Sue Perry at Smashwords.

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Book 1 Table of Contents

Ella's Diary, Entries 1.–41.

Acknowledgements

About Sue Perry and her Novels

Dedication

For Leo.

1.

DD – They're always snooping on my phone to check who did I text, where do I go online. So this diary will be pen on paper. Every day a separate page. Every page I'll hide somewhere different. If they find a page it will just seem like a page, not part of a diary. When I put DD that means Dear Diary. When I put sE that means signed, Ella. I won't forget but in case I forget this is my plan so far.

Maybe I can bury some pages in the empty lot next to the strip mall they never finished expanding. Other ideas for hiding places? Inside boxes of my parents' stuff that they let me store in the garage. In pockets of clothes I'm not allowed to wear. Behind the loose shelf in my school locker. Between pages in books – because no one reads except me. Books are for decoration, I guess. Books in living room, in other prisoners' bedrooms, at their church, at the counselor. Can't hide anything in my own books, though. Those could be confiscated at any time.

Really I could hide the D in so many places because people hardly notice anything unless it's on a screen. I don't have to hide the pages, I could rip and flush after I write. But then DD wouldn't be a secret document, it would be a hobby. – sE

2.

DD – It's for my own good. Someday I'll understand. Given the circumstances, my behavior is to be expected. They can all go Tupac themselves.

Back–to–school night and the wardens insisted that we go. I had to wear a dress and a hair style so none of my teachers even recognized me. Not that they know who I am, anyway. Or care except in a pity=superior way. I'm just another occupier of desk space who will bring down their test statistics.

Lots of talking in hushed tones about my recent tragedy. Only good thing about that is it's a buy–out for homework that I don't feel like doing. But I can't overdo the depressed orphan stuff or they'll be pushing me to take more meds, and see the counselor more days, which is total Eminem.

There is one cool guy, I think his name is Paul. He is in two of my classes. He was there tonight with a man and a woman who didn't act like parents or wardens. Interesting! I need to find out more. – sE

3.

DD – Danger new rules and restrictions ahead. On the way to school this morning, the wardens said they noticed I was spending a lot of time out at the accident site and was that good for my recovery and they were there for me and don't I want to talk about it. I explained about changing the flowers at the site, which is what I legitimately do, but only once a week. I stayed all sweet and polite and thanked them for caring and I did it all without barfing. From now on I'll have to go to the site from the back way so they don't see me.

It's not to change the flowers, it's not to brood about death. That isn't why I've been going to the accident site every day. I go to see that cat, the weird wild one that runs up the tree when I cross to its side of the street. He makes eye contact, like we've known each other a long time. He has great camouflage, black and gray