So far, we've managed to stay hidden for two weeks. We hear police sirens all of the time, we mostly assume they're looking for us. Sometimes, I wondered if my parents were looking for me. Then I came to the conclusion that they didn't want me and I felt the need to punch something.

My small stall of the barn has become as mine as I can get it. Unlike Ashley, I didn't have someone constantly providing me with letters to put on my wall. Noah was all over her, it was very cheesy and annoying. I hated that.

I wanted that.

Noah had gone out to get more firewood. We only had one box of mac and cheese before we ran out of food. Someone was going to have to go into town soon. I volunteered, I was the only one without a family to search for me. I was much less likely to be recognized. Especially without my heavy makeup. Hopefully, I'd be safe.

"You ready?" Hudson leaned over the wooden gate of the stall. Oakley, Ash and Elliot were playing a game of cards up in the hayloft.

"To go into town?" I asked.

He laughed. "Yeah what else? You planning on going on a group trip to the mall?"

"You know I don't do malls." I glared at him. "Too many giggly coupes. Can't stand them."

"Ah you'll get a girlfriend Ray!" He ruffled up my hair. "Have a little faith! And until then you got me!"

I couldn't help myself but laugh, "You aren't exactly my type."

He sighed handing me a wad of cash. "You aren't mine either." He looked up at the hayloft.

"Bye." I shoved past him. I wrapped my head in one of Oakley's scarves and walked out of the barn. As the official errand runner, I knew the safest way to go without being seen. I had almost been seen too many times going the way we always went. I decided to head South instead. I had about a mile of straight walking before I could get to the next farm. I was always careful to not be seen by the farmers. They mostly lived in there own little world. I had never seen them. But as far as I could tell, everyone knew about the missing teenagers in Hackson, Georgia. We were the biggest thing to happen in our small town since the 1950's when Roy Robertson managed to win a national hunting competition when he was in his twenties.

As I walked along the dead crop, I realized something I hadn't before. These farmers suck! Where are their plants? And I could have sworn the red truck parked in front of the house hasn't moved in the whole time we've been here. Debating my chances, I realized I was as disguised as I possibly could be. I decided to investigate.

I walked another hundred yards or so before I arrived at the front of the farmhouse. I rang the old doorbell. No response. I knocked before trying to force it open. After another five minutes of no acknowledgement, I opened the door.

I screamed when a family of raccoons ran out at me.

"And people wonder why I hate rodents!" I quickly turned around, to see if anyone had heard me. What kind of person would choose to live in such awful conditions? I entered the seemingly empty house. Dust had accumulated on every surface in sight. Shoes and broken glass littered the hallway. I flicked the light switch, I saw flickering but nothing more.

"Hello?" I called. I opened door after door to reveal small living rooms and a kitchen, along with a dinette and a door to a large wrap around porch. I made my way up the wooden stair case and found around four bedrooms.

The first of the four was small. The blue wallpaper was peeling, making some of the printed peonies looks crinkled and dry. A large stain spread across the carpet in the back corner. the small bed that leaned against the window, had the mattress falling off of the box spring and the quilt on the floor next to it had some sort of urine on it. Probably those darn raccoons'.

When I opened the door to the next, there was no furniture. Just a few stacked blankets and an antique art easel. I saw dried up pots of paint and broken brushes. The few canvases in the room, had little to nothing on them Except for one, one of them seemed to have a rough sketch of a bouquet of flowers and a bowl of fruit. How creative. I rolled my eyes.

The third room was basically empty, nothing was there except for a broken down crib and a crack on the window.

But the fourth room. The final room, was something. A neatly made bed was lodged in the corner next to a built in shelf. A few of the slabs had fallen, leaving the books fallen on the floor below. The wallpaper had stayed, and the dresser was still standing. The drawers were opened and there were clothes scattered across the floor as if someone had left in a hurry. A blown glass blue bird rested on the dresser, along with a cracked clock and a few pieces of jewelry. The jewelry and the bird weren't what caught my attention in this room. What did catch my eye was the journals scattered across the desk. I opened one and began to read.

They were full of diary entries, written by some girl named Jane. These diaries had to have been at least sixty-five years since she had written them. They were all dated in 1949. From what I could tell, she had a little brother named James, and an even younger sister named Jackie. I think I must have stayed in that room for an hour reading the journals of Jane Elle. The warm sun enveloped me as I leaned against the window and read.

Their mother had died about a year before, and they had moved to Hackson for a fresh start. They bought the farm and decided to grow peaches with their father. The more and more I read, the more I began to like James. He was a rotten child who always seemed to try and prank his sister. She didn't find it very funny, but as I was reading, I found myself laughing harder than I had in a while.

I looked at my watch and hopped up. I had to get back to the group, and I hadn't even bought the groceries. I was going to have to remember to return to the old Elle house.

I ran pretty quickly to the store, and bought a bunch of groceries for the next week or two. On my way back to the barn, I ran into Ashley.

"There you are!" She yelled. She seemed slightly scared. "We thought the cops had found you! We thought we had been caught."

I smiled. She was so serious and cautious. So worried about being caught that she didn't want to live. No wonder Jane reminded me of her. "I'm fine, Ashley." I continued walking. "Really. I just got a little distracted."

"By what?" She ran to catch up with me.

"Oh nothing." Ashley was one of my dearest friends. But I wanted to keep the Elle house a secret. I was going to be sharing everything with these people for the next few months. It was nice to know I would have something that could be mine. "I just took a moment to be alone."

She opened the door to the barn when we got back, and sighed.

"Oh you found her. Thank God!" Elliot looked extremely relieved. I walked back into the barn and dropped the food off in the pantry stall and returned to my own. I reached into my jacket and pulled out one of the journals of Jane Elle that I had snatched and read. I think that was all I did for the next few weeks. I read and visited the Elle home. I fixed up the old house, and even bought some wood glue the next time I went to the store to fix the wallpaper. I fixed the box springs and the kitchen cabinets. I read more of Jane's diaries and I treasured her home. I loved it there, I even grew to love the families' things. Jane's blue bird was given to her by her grandmother and a pocket watch I found in one of the kitchen drawers, belonged to her father.

I never learned what happened to the Elle family. The diaries just ended. I read and reread every single one. I never got tired of the stories. I would find myself seeing something and wondering what Jane would have thought. It was sad really. I could never meet her.

We were completely different. I wore nothing but black, and my eyeliner was always to heavy. She seemed to like dresses and lip glosses. I liked rock and she liked classical. But despite our differences, I did grow to love Jane Elle.

Most of my time was spent at that house. I found old seeds and tried to grow them. None worked. I eventually bought more and planted them. I grew a tomato plant. I was proud of my plant. I was proud of how I had fixed up the old house. This house was mine, and I loved it I wouldn't even let anyone come to the house with me. I never intended to share it with anyone.

At least I didn't until it happened. Until the fire....