The Secret Diary
By Fayzan Hanif
()
About this ebook
Fayzan Hanif
My name is Fayzan hanif I am 25 years old and currently working in retail. I was born and still living in England from a small town called Middlesbrough. I have always wanted to write a novel, as a child i was always reading and was inspired to write my own one day. When I was younger I was memorized by how a writer can easily make the reader so interested and intrigued. I always wanted to write a novel that would be enjoyed by anybody reading it.
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The Secret Diary - Fayzan Hanif
AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403 USA
www.authorhouse.co.uk
Phone: 0800.197.4150
© 2013 by Fayzan Hanif. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 09/13/2013
ISBN: 978-1-4918-7865-1 (sc)
ISBN:978-1-4918-7878-1 (e)
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
How does the defendant plead?
Not guilty, Your Honour.
The crowded courtroom mutters in disgust. Her long, dark hair falls down her back and is parted away from her face. People can clearly see the sadness in her brown shaded eyes. Her pale lips pout.
She killed him! She killed him!
the courtroom audience starts to mutter again amongst themselves.
Order! Order!
the judge bawls while banging his gavel. He then instructs the defendant’s lawyer to give her opening statement.
She stands, approaches the jury, and introduces herself as Kate. Her fair blond hair is tied into a ponytail, and her long fringe sits just above her thin, pencil-shaped eyebrows. Her grey eyes go unnoticed, and her shiny lips are glowing from recently applied lip gloss. She takes a deep breath and begins to speak.
Ladies and gentlemen, throughout this court case I will prove that my client, Gemma Maria Thompson, is innocent. I will prove to the court that my client had no motive whatsoever to kill Joseph Lee Anderson. She loved this man dearly, as he was the closest thing she had to a father.
Kate continues on, explaining that she will prove that there is no concrete evidence that can prove her client killed the deceased.
Disappointed with her opening statement, Kate tugs down her blazer, returns to her seat, and gives an affectionate smile to the defendant.
Gemma, it’s okay babe, don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right,
she says, stroking her arm lovingly and giving her a wink.
Thanks, Aunt Kate,
Gemma replies, giving her a half-hearted smile and nodding. She thinks, I know she’s not really my aunt. I just call her that out of respect. Kate and I go way back and are very close.
She thinks back to her childhood.
* * *
She is at a playground as a child. She has two short black ponytails with red ladybird bobbles keeping them in place. She has thick, puffy eyebrows and cute, chubby cheeks. She glares at the monkey bar frame.
She shakes her head and breathes heavily through her small nostrils. She knows the thin, red bars are way too slippery for her to hang onto. Finally, a sophisticated looking blond-haired woman in a short dress picks her up.
Babe, me and you will do it together!
she says while holding her legs. Gemma begins to swing on the monkey bars.
Thanks, Aunt Kate. You’re the best!
She can’t believe she is swinging from the bars! Thinking Gemma could do it herself, Kate gradually lets go of her. At first she keeps on swinging with confidence. When she finally realizes that Kate is not holding her, she plummets to the ground, cutting her bony little knee. She begins to weep quietly.
Aw, Gemma! My poor baby.
Kate gives her a cuddle, and Gemma wipes her tears away, feeling safe in Kate’s arms.
* * *
Gemma snaps out of her flashback, realizing that the court case has been adjourned to the next morning.
Everything will be all right,
Kate reassures Gemma as the officers take her back into custody.
On her way out, Kate bumps into the prosecuting lawyer. He is an older, classy man with short hair and a fringe along his forehead. Kate glares at his jet-black hair, knowing it has been dyed. His hazel eyes look Kate up and down as he speaks.
You know you will never win this case.
He smirks at her. I have just found an eye witness that I will introduce tomorrow,
he says proudly.
You can’t do that, Jack,
she replies, panicking.
Hey, you’re playing with the big boys now.
Jack grins at her and walks away. Kate looks up to the sky, bewildered. She knows that it is already going to be hard enough to win the case without the prosecution having an eye witness. Feeling low and defeated, she walks to a nearby bench and sits down. She knows that Gemma could get a life sentence if she doesn’t win this case.
Two police officers enter the station with Gemma in handcuffs. The police station has its own logos and there are notices all over the white brick walls. They enter the main reception room. There is an officer at a desk protected by bulletproof, transparent material.
Gemma passes the reception desk and is led to a locked door. One of the officers drifts away as the other punches in the code. A sound goes off, indicating that he can exit the room and continue further into the station. The officer pushes open the metal door, and they walk through and into another room, where there is a gathering of police officers. There are men and women of all ages, each in their own element, performing their day-to-day tasks. As they notice Gemma, some stare, and others mumble amongst themselves. She gulps, unsure of how to react.
A bald officer with a thin-lined beard loudly slams a file on the table, causing an awkward silence. She notices his name tag reads Nick
. He towers over Gemma, and she stares down at the floor. She prepares herself for the awful remarks she believes are about to come from him. He forcefully squeezes the bottom of her chin and lifts her head up. He stares at her with bloodshot eyes and heaves a sigh.
Well, if it isn’t my favourite inmate,
he grunts sarcastically and grins angrily, pushing her face away. He strolls away proudly while whistling happily swinging a bunch of keys on his finger.
Gemma is escorted from the room and they walk down another corridor, stopping in front of a bronze cell door where an officer is standing guard. The officer exchanges a glance with the guard and opens the cell door. He removes the handcuffs, shoves her onto her bed, then slams the door shut. Suddenly, he starts to yell at Gemma.
Who do you think you are trying to disrespect the chief like that?
He smashes the cell door with his torch, which explodes into pieces. Shocked that it broke so easily, he yells at Gemma.
You really think you will get away with this? I don’t think so! Over my dead body. I will see to it you get what’s coming to you!
He takes a deep breath and stalks away. Gemma shows no emotion and sighs as if she was used to this type of behaviour.
An African American woman offers her a cigarette from the next cell, which she refuses but thanks her anyway.
What’s your name?
Gemma asks her.
G thirteen,
the women replies. Gemma is bewildered and puzzled. She tries to introduce herself but gets rudely interrupted.
Yeah, I know who you are. You’re the famous Gemma Thompson. You killed the Super Cop.
She laughs hysterically. You must be really messed up to kill a local hero like that!
I didn’t kill anyone,
Gemma says, shaking her head.
Yeah, right. You accidently pulled the trigger. You didn’t mean to,
G thirteen says with a smile.
Gemma gives up and shakes her head, looking around her dingy cell. It is dark, cold, and uncomfortable. She glances at what is supposedly a sink, but is full of mould and cigarette ashes and looks like it has never been cleaned before. Beside the basin is a disgusting, reeking toilet which hasn’t been flushed as the handle is broken. Gemma parks herself on a worn-out bed and furiously runs her fingers through her hair. She curls up on the bed and closes her eyes, defeated.
* * *
Gemma, sweetie! Come down, breakfast is ready!
A housewife shouts up the stairs and then starts to walk to the kitchen.
In a minute, Mom!
a young Gemma replies. She is seven years old and is lying on her bed, reading her pink, fur-covered diary. It has a heart on the front and gold writing which says Little Angel
. She turns to a clean page and starts to write.
Dear Diary, it’s been a week since the wedding and my new dad is a local hero. Three days before the wedding he saved a little girl like me from a fire. He was so brave and wonderful.
Gemma taps her pen gently against her head, thinking of what else she can write about her new dad. She is interrupted by her mother, screaming up the stairs.
Gemma! Come down and eat your breakfast!
Coming, Mom,
Gemma replies once again. She closes her diary and cautiously places it under her pillow as if it’s a buried treasure she doesn’t want anyone else to find.
In the kitchen, a woman with black wavy hair hands a cup of tea and a plate of toast, eggs, and beans to a man in uniform. The toast has been cut into a heart shape and is placed pleasingly on the plate. She lovingly smiles at the officer and kisses him on the head, saying, Eat up, babe. You’re running late.
She turns to the sink and begins to wash the few pots that are in it. The man has styled his hair with a lot of gel and has placed black sunglass on top of his head.
He looks puzzled by the piece of toast. He turns it over and realizes that some of it is burnt. He licks his lips, rubs his sky blue eyes, and pulls a face that draws lines in his forehead. He drops the toast and shakes his head in disappointment, then reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out his wallet. He flips it open and looks at the identification card inside. Suddenly, he picks up his plate and hurls it against the wall. The woman gasps in horror as he drags her towards the table, slams her face down against it, and holds her there.
What is this?
he screams at her, smacking his fist on the table, just barely missing her face.
Please, Joe,
she whimpers, looking petrified of what he is going to do next. He shoves his identification in her face, asking her to read it. She doesn’t reply as she is choking on her tears, so he reads it himself.
It says ‘Joe, Chief constable’.
He picks her up and slams her against the wall. He grabs her neck and stares deeply into her eyes.
How can you send a police officer to work with a burnt breakfast, Nancy?
he shouts at her but she doesn’t respond.
Gemma casually walks in the room, happily humming. She looks at her helpless mom and runs to her.
Leave her alone!
she screams, doing everything she can to help her defenceless mother. Joe effortlessly pushes little Gemma to the floor. Finally, a car toots its horn and Joe affectionately strokes Nancy’s cheek with his fingers. He whispers in her ear that he forgives her and calmly wanders out of the house.
Hey, mate! Today’s the big day you get that promotion,
he says to his partner as he gets into the cruiser.
Yeah,
the partner nods, amused. Superintendent Paul, sure sounds good to me,
he scoffs. Paul’s hair is combed down, resulting in a fringe. He has bushy eyebrows, contact lenses, and deep creases beside his eyes.
Back in the house, Gemma is trying to comfort her mom. She starts to clean up the broken plate. Nancy tries to hold back her tears, knowing that she should not let her daughter see how hurt she is. The tears start to tremble from her eyes and she breaks down, her hands covering her face. Gemma leaves the mess and hugs her mom.
* * *
As she wakes up from her flashback and realizes she is in her cell, tears slowly roll down her face. She wipes them and sits up,