Dear Diary
Dear Diary,
I've been having that dream again. The one about being a part of a happy family. It scares me. Part of me wants to go back and turn myself in. Tell Father that I love him and I miss him and I'm sorry for running away and causing all this trouble. But I can't. It's too dangerous. The FBI is after me, I'm sure of it. Hopefully I'm safe here. I want to escape from it all and be able to live in peace. Go back to the same home every day, without worrying about where to run next. One can only dream.
I think Montpelier is the perfect city for me to stay in. It's part of Southern France, where Mom was from, so already, I feel a connection to this land. Maybe one day, I'll visit Grandma and Grandpa, they live close by. The city is large enough to attract tourists and it wouldn't arouse too much suspicion if an American lived here, yet too small for major hotels or airlines. The people here are nice and it was easy enough to set up a bank account under the name Robert Monjo, which will have to be my identity from now on. Also, as I learned in my short stay here, Montpelier is a great place to learn about wines. In fact, there's a Wine University nearby, which is quite strange. I rarely drink, except for some social occasions, so I have no real interest in wine, but it did intrigue me for a bit.
I'm wondering what to do during my stay here. I have no real need for a job, I have enough cash and checks to last a lifetime, though I might soon. I thought being able to do whatever I wanted would be fun, but I'm starting to put on a few pounds. I might enroll in school again actually. No courses are taught in English, but I can speak French thanks to Mom's teachings. I guess she was right. It would come in handy some day.
Anyway, I'm starting to get hungry. I'm all out of food, so I'll have to go buy some at the local market. The one I go to has the freshest ingredients and a couple of nice restaurants surround it. So I'm going to get ready and leave to pick up some groceries.
Until next time,
Frank Abagnale Jr.
I've been having that dream again. The one about being a part of a happy family. It scares me. Part of me wants to go back and turn myself in. Tell Father that I love him and I miss him and I'm sorry for running away and causing all this trouble. But I can't. It's too dangerous. The FBI is after me, I'm sure of it. Hopefully I'm safe here. I want to escape from it all and be able to live in peace. Go back to the same home every day, without worrying about where to run next. One can only dream.
I think Montpelier is the perfect city for me to stay in. It's part of Southern France, where Mom was from, so already, I feel a connection to this land. Maybe one day, I'll visit Grandma and Grandpa, they live close by. The city is large enough to attract tourists and it wouldn't arouse too much suspicion if an American lived here, yet too small for major hotels or airlines. The people here are nice and it was easy enough to set up a bank account under the name Robert Monjo, which will have to be my identity from now on. Also, as I learned in my short stay here, Montpelier is a great place to learn about wines. In fact, there's a Wine University nearby, which is quite strange. I rarely drink, except for some social occasions, so I have no real interest in wine, but it did intrigue me for a bit.
I'm wondering what to do during my stay here. I have no real need for a job, I have enough cash and checks to last a lifetime, though I might soon. I thought being able to do whatever I wanted would be fun, but I'm starting to put on a few pounds. I might enroll in school again actually. No courses are taught in English, but I can speak French thanks to Mom's teachings. I guess she was right. It would come in handy some day.
Anyway, I'm starting to get hungry. I'm all out of food, so I'll have to go buy some at the local market. The one I go to has the freshest ingredients and a couple of nice restaurants surround it. So I'm going to get ready and leave to pick up some groceries.
Until next time,
Frank Abagnale Jr.