The Hobby

Chapter 1

January 25th, 2000.

Dear Diary,

Tonight was the first night I killed someone.

But then, I'm getting ahead of myself, now aren't I?

January 2nd, 2000.

Dear Diary,

Today is my fifteenth birthday. My parents, as usual, forgot to get me a present. So, naturally, I'm stuck with whatever my fathers' assistant thought was expensive enough to sway my indifference toward them. It doesn't work, of course - it never does - it's just giving me something to do.

The present was this; a black leather journal, from Italy. Engraved on the front cover, "Se non è vero, è ben trovato." is an old Italian proverb which translates as, "If it's not true, it's a good story."

I had to look up the translation, because though I am bilingual neither one of the languages is Italian. Or rather I'm fluent in both English and Nihongo (Common Japanese).

That's right, I haven't told you yet... I live in Kyoto, Japan with my mother, my father, and my little sister. My father, the Vice President of a very large company here, makes enough money so that we can be considered wealthy people. Alright, more than wealthy. More like filthy rich but my parents hardly pay any attention to us, so it doesn't really matter.

Anyway, I'm writing in this journal because...

1. It's not exactly refundable, not that I need the money.

2. I don't have anything better to do between now and the party that starts in an hour. I already have my outfit picked out and the directions memorized.

About the party; the third day of Shōgatsu (Japanese New Year), when all the adults are still out partying, we go all out and throw the biggest party of the year. At first it started out as a birthday celebration, for me, but then it grew to an all-out New Years party. The adults never find out and I do mean never. I'm the main leader of that department. I make sure that nothing goes wrong, that no one finds out. And with my father gone all the time his computer is easy to access.

Our entire class was invited this year. Excited, wouldn't be the word I'd choose, it would be a little more...

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to start this journal. Or maybe not. I don't know. Anyway, bye.

January 3rd, 2000.

Dear Diary,

It's past two in the morning and I haven't gotten any sleep. Yet, for some strange reason, I'm not tired at all but wide awake, like the crazy party never even happen. It's... strange.

I'm deciding on whether or not I should write this next part down. I mean, I could get caught.

Well, I can always get rid of this journal later, I suppose.

Either way, I should start at the beginning.

You see, Hiun, this bratty, little snob who goes to my school, was at the party last night and, well... okay in short, she made me angry. So, I took her ring... well stole would be more of the word for it, I guess. Her father just bought it for her on his last business trips to France. Her father works for/with my father: for the same company I mean. The ring is her most prized possession, and she bragged about it everyday and everywhere she goes.

She didn't even notice me taking it -- which is kind of freaking me out a little - because, either she really is brainless or I have a knack for... theft. And the really scary thing is that it was actually fun.