Grand Prize Winner: Maddy Micinski

---

Wheels of Terror - download as a pdf

Thursday, October 1, 1996

Hello Journal!  My name is Jenny.  I am 12 years old and in the 6th grade.  Our Creative Writing Instructor, Mrs. Sherman, gave us the assignment to keep a journal for two weeks.  This will be fun!  I live with my Mom and my little brother Jimmy, who is 5 years old.  My Mom’s name is Joan.  Jimmy and I go to my Dad’s house every other week.  My Dad’s name is Bob (that’s short for Robert).

I just got done playing with my little brother and his favorite toy—stupid little toy trucks that have faces painted on them.  He could play with these for hours.  Tonight when I was through playing, I went to the kitchen to get a snack.  When I got back to my room the trucks were scattered everywhere!  Jimmy knows he’s not supposed to be in my room and he knows he is supposed to pick up his toys.  He must have snuck in here when I was eating my apple.

Good night journal—see you tomorrow morning!

Wednesday, October 2, 1996.

Good morning journal.  Jimmy must have been in my room this morning.  After I picked up his trucks last night he got back in their box and took the red one out and put it on my nightstand.  It was kind of weird ‘cause it seemed like it was looking at me.  Oh well, I’m just being silly.  I must not have slept well last night.

Just go home from school.  It was an okay day today.  I still wish I was in the popular group at school.  Sometimes I wonder why, though; those girls seem to always be picking on people.  The boy I like, Josh, actually waved and said hi to me… he even knows my name!

This is too weird.  I was beat when I came home—we had gym at the end of the day—for two whole hours!   I was so tired when I came home that I laid down for awhile.  I must have fallen asleep.  When I woke up, one of those stupid trucks, the blue one, was on my pillow.  I must not have been awake ‘cause I swear I heard like an engine sound.  That Jimmy—I’m going to have to talk to Mom about him coming in my room.

Thursday, October 3, 1996

I didn’t have time to write this morning.  I slept late and had to rush to get to school.  I’m at my Dad’s house tonight.  I just got done brushing my teeth.  I found two of Jimmy’s trucks in the drawer where I keep my toothbrush and toothpaste.  They were facing the back of the drawer.  I opened the drawer all of the way and there was my compact mirror stuck in the back.  When I looked in it, I saw the trucks’ faces.  I slammed the drawer shut, ran out of the bathroom and went to get my Dad.  He came in, opened the drawer and the trucks were gone.  I’m not liking this, because my Dad thinks I’m making things up just to get my brother in trouble.  I think I’ll leave my night light on tonight—the one I’ve had since I was 5 years old.

Friday, October 4, 1996           

We don’t have school today.  There are Parent/Teacher meetings all day.  My Dad has the day off of work today but just left to go to school for his meeting with my teacher.  I’m staying with Jimmy.  We’re leaving soon to take him over to his friend Matt’s house.  They live just a couple of blocks away from here.  Then I’m going to the school playground to meet my friends Margaret and Mary.  I’m going to tell them about this toy truck thing because it’s really been bugging me.  They’re probably going to think I’m crazy, but I have to get this off of my chest.

Later on Friday, October 4, 1996

I was right; they think I’m crazy.  Maybe I am, maybe this is just my imagination…

Really late on Friday

Well, no truck incidents—yet! Maybe I can get a good night’s sleep.  Ouch, I just got a really bad toe ache.  Oh no, there’s that engine sound again.  I think I’m going crazy.  I [don’t] know if I should get my Dad or not.  Oh my gosh, I just looked at my toe—it’s got tire marks on it.  I’m getting Dad.

OK, I just came back to bed.  I woke Dad up, told him what happened and he got kind of mad at me.  He said, “Jenny, it’s your imagination.  Go back to bed.   I’ve had about enough of this.  No friends, no phone, no TV for a week.”  That’s not fair.  I’m not talking to Dad anymore.

Saturday, October 5, 1996

I’m back home at Mom’s house.  When I walked in, the trucks were scattered all over my room again.  I went and talked to my Mom about it.  Here’s our conversation:

“Mom, Jimmy was in my room and scattered those trucks all over the floor again.  What are you going to do about it?”

It took Mom a minute to answer me.  Then she said, ”Jenny, your brother hasn’t even been home.  He want right from Dad’s to Matt’s house.”

I don’t know what to do.

Saturday, October 12, 1996

Right after I last wrote in this journal I had an accident.  I was in and out of consciousness for 4 days.  Everybody said I tripped on something in my room.  Probably clothes I left on the floor, so they said.  I hit my head really hard on my nightstand.  My mom found me there and called 911.

I didn’t trip on any clothes.  I got up off of my bed, looked down and saw all of the toy trucks circling around me.  They went faster and faster and I kept spinning around watching them.  That’s the last thing I remember.  I can’t tell anybody this—I won’t tell anybody this.  Ever.

Sunday, October 5, 2011

The other day I found this journal and re-read all of the things I wrote all those years ago and remembered what a scary time in my life that was.  I had to see a doctor for a long time.  He and I had long talks about all of this.  He finally had me understand how your imagination can play tricks on you.

All of these years later, I have a little boy who just turned 5 today.  We had a birthday party for him this afternoon.  His Uncle Jimmy gave him a big wrapped present.  It was a big set of toy trucks.  All of them had faces painted on them