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The Journals of Raymond Brooks 7

Prelude

“Are you sure I'm interviewing the right person?” Asked the
interviewer through the microphone on her blouse signaling
with her hand to cut the cameras. "This teenage girl couldn't
possibly be …” she added. She looked again at the person before
her, blinking twice to make sure she wasn’t imagining. Up on
the chair bounced a petite teenage girl, smiling charmingly. She
seemed ordinary to the interviewer — beautiful to be sure,

but ordinary; nothing but grayed hair to signify Jaunee's true
age. The cameraman nodded his approval; it was her. She had
a chiseled heart-shaped face, almost symmetric, and her skin
was of pale complexion, without blemish. As she was drawn
by a master artist rather than born. Were it not for the sadness
in her eyes, and the worry-lines around her lips anyone could
easily mistake her for fantasy in flesh. She however was very

much alive and trying her best to put on a show.
“So ah, Jaunee …” The interviewer began nervously, sipping a
glass of water.