Cause then Effect

A Daisy's Star

A Daisy's Star

She sits down placing her backpack next to her. She opened her backpack and drags a folder. She opens the folder and takes out a sticker sheet. She closed a few stickers and sticks them in her arm. She closes the folder and places it back in her bad pulling out a notebook. She glips to the last page of the notebook. She takes the stickers off her arm and placed them at the top of the page. She grabs her favorite pink sparkly pencil from behind her ear and begins to write.

Dear diary

Sorry I haven't written in a while. I just don't want people to know what has lead up to this entry.

She stops writing to think for a moment tapping her pencil on her chin. Then an idea comes to her and she continues to write.

I tried to deal with it by myself. I hid it all. I didn't even tell anyone. I thought I could do it by myself. And help myself in some way.

In a way, it worked. I did help myself. Most people would say I'm not helping myself. But it works for me. Everyone copes in different ways. Most basically everyone would say my way of coping is wrong. But it's how I cope. And it works for me. But soon I win need a way to cope anymore because I found a treatment.

She stops writing when the wind blows her short hair in her fave. She moved the hair out of her eyes but it gets blown back and she gave anyway. She grabs a hair clip out of her pocket and clips her hair out of her face. She smiles to herself before continuing to write.

I'm just lucky no one caught me yet. Or else they would force me to take those fake happy pills. And try to get me to talk to someone.

I don't need to talk to anyone. I have my diary that I write to. You're the only one I tell stuff like this to. You've been with me for a while.

Actually, I've just gotten new diary over the years. But I keep you all. It's kind of funny actually. I pretend like your all the same diary and remember everything I write in my old ones.

I don't need any friends when I have a diary like you I can write to. Well, I do have a few friends. But we always joke around. I don't trust them with anything. They don't know the real me. Actually, no one knows the real me except you diary.

I wonder if my friend will miss me. Maybe not since they don't know the real me. They just know the puppet me. The me with a mask.

My family kind of knew me better. But they still didn't know the real me. I hope they don't miss me too much. Actually, they might. But I know they will forget about me in a year at most. Maybe that's for the better. I don't want them to remember me as someone they "could have helped". I don't need help. I've made up my mind.

This is my treatment.

This is my life.

We all get to chose our own paths, don't we?

Well, then this is mine.

I hope no one sheafs too many tears over me.

Heh.

I jinx it.

Now I'm shedding tears for you guys.

I would say I'll miss you.

But we all know I can't.

Don't be too discussed by me.

Thank you diary for all you've done for me.

You've kept me going up until this point.

From
- Daisy