October 2nd
Never thought I'd unironically write a diary. I've always hated the idea of having a book with your every desire and emotion writ' about. I'm only doing this to because none of these damn idiots know me. No one ever takes the chance to meet me, talk to me, not even to check on me and my sanity! I'm not insane nor unhinged, I just get frustrated, easily. I hate the thought of being just another brick in the wall. I thought I could try to become someone worthwhile; I tried to become a musician, didn't work. I wasn't allowed to buy any instruments neither could I learn in secret or otherwise, I won't have an instrument to play on even if I learn, why bother? Could I sing? I do when I'm alone which is rare. First time I tried my dad thought it'd be wise to cut my tongue. He didn't he just gashed my inner cheek. It doesn't hurt anymore though, I made it hard to speak for a while but it's been healing nicely. What does he have against me? I don't know, he probably has a superiority complex. He insist I refer to him as "sir" or "father" among others. He'd probably have my fingers if he read this, since I called him dad and all. Wish I could write more, gotta admit it's pretty addictive, but I have a bit of jogging session to attend to!
Ta-ta
October 3rd
It's really bugging me that I've started writing on the 2nd rather than the 1st. Could've waited a month to write but I wanted to do this as soon as I could. Father had me train all evening last night. It's part of my clockwork routine so not unusual I just thought to mention. He's vey adamant about me succeeding where he failed, he doesn't say it nor ever has but I just know. In his youth he tried to become an Olympic athlete but just a simple fall and his leg came off! I'm kidding, he's fine he fractured his femur and ever since he was 17 he's walked with a cane. I know he wants me to become an Olympiad in his place but I don't want to. What I can't either is break his heart, can't fix that with a cane. At least the geezer forced me into a good shape. Can't believe at my age I'm developing a six-pack! well, I'm a ways away from it but all I have to do is follow my hellish routine. It sucks. Wish I could get out of it somehow but for now I'll stop writing. It's midnight and I have to be up early for my morning jog and then school.
Good night!
October 4th
Everything is going as per usual. I'm in the middle of lunch everyone is ignoring me. I sit alone under an awning, figured it's better than walking around. I'm not likeable at all; I may train everyday to become an Olympiad but looks don't get you anywhere. It doesn't help that everyone hates my personality. I'd assume anyway, people don't approach me ever and it does take a toll knowing no one wants me around. During group projects or anything of the like people are bummed to have to work with me. I end up not doing anything. I'm not stupid I just know my talents are put to better use elsewhere. Anyway, I'm essentially on my own there are people who I talk to every once in a while but they're too shy to serve me any good. I'm BORED!! I want to do something with my life.
got an idea!!!!!!
October 5th
Oh my dear beautiful readers! I've got a story to tell. Remember those wee lewdies I mentioned I talked to? Well as I was writing my last entry I saw two of them walk by and chose to talk to them. They're both idiotic quirky girls who think they're so cool because they worship serial killers and think they have daddy issues because their dad took their phone once. I'm not sure if it counts but by that logic I have severe daddy issues. Anyway, I came behind them and place my hands on either of their shoulders and greeted them. They were a bit surprised but shyly welcomed me. Let me describe them to ya'll some more. On my left was the 14 year old June. Pretty face, classic emo hair that definitely belongs in 2006, hazel eyes like a that of tea, quite thin and short with pale skin, and of course, dyed tips. I don't like them, the blue distracts from her golden hair and her make-up is atrocious which I find oddly beautiful; the eyeliner 'round her eyes, her jet black lipstick, and dark eyeshadow on her cheeks. Strange. To my right I held 15 year old Sidney from her neck. Hates being called "Sid", prefers "Sydney", and thinks she's a cool and rebellious punk when in fact she's just an arrogant bitch. I sort of dislike her attitude but I'd be lying if I didn't enjoy it. It's also hard to stay mad at someone with bright red hair. I'm 78% sure it's natural, who knows I guess. Anyway, she turned to me and gave me an angry look which I found oddly cute, I just smirked. I'm sorry but those bright blues had me thinking unwise as Confucius would say. Sorry, wildly off topic again. Sidney asked what the hell I was doing; June just looked at me shyly, or in fear I can't tell 'em apart. I happily told them I really wanted to see them that day. I kept a hold on both and walked them to the school's gate, Sidney wasn't thrilled and made it quite clear that she'd ditch school with anyone but me. I pissed her off and used a bit of the ol' reverse psychology on her. I told her I'd just have to go with June, alone. Need I say she followed? June went along with everything as always; she kept twiddling her hands, probably nervous but I didn't and still don't care! She used to bully me in elementary, actually she was also the first person, aside from dad, to make me bleed. After dad found out I got a kroovy nose from a girl he began to add new training sessions, such as self-defense. Anyway, I don't care about her not because she used to bully me, but because she stopped. Listen, or read I guess, when all the most fulfilling thing in your life is literally talking about how mundane said life is, even you'd pray to be bullied. I just don't to be ignore or unknown. I believe June stopped bullying me around the time other kids started to complain to their parents about her. Now she's a reject 'cause of it! I consider her a friend even if she doesn't acknowledge me much. At that point, if I can recall right, I had them two follow me into the sunset! Through the meadows and over yonder! I'm fucking with you, we walked to my house. I told them we could listen to a new record I'd bought. Sid complained of course, she questioned why I wasn't just normal and streamed music. Now if I'm to be honest here, it takes away from the experience. All the corporate, commercialized garbage of ads. I hate it. That was my response to her, worded differently of course, far more animated! Father isn't home around this time, he's usually slaving away at his accounting job or down at The Irishman having a drink. I let them in and headed for my room upstairs where I had all my vinyl. June seemed fine, her fine, usually just scared I guess. Sid was weary or just disgusted, I couldn't tell, I'll ask her after practice and school. I'm tired I'll finish the story tomorrow and hey, I might have new fodder to write about.
YOU ARE READING
They Think They Know Who I Am
HorrorA young man tells of his story in this diary. Tired of being invisible, he feels as if no one cares if he lives or dies and decides to put some action in his life. Disgruntled by his clockwork routine he wishes to fulfill his inner-most desires to l...