The Lilac Diaries | ONC 2022

Chapter 4

Lazlo

. . .

As soon as I slammed my door shut, I started gasping for air. That was the fastest I had run in a long time, and I'll admit that I was a little out of shape.

Leaning against the door, the realization of what I just did started to sink in, and I wasn't able to move. It was like I was paralyzed with fear, and if I dared to utter a word, the world would end.

"Lazlo, what are you doing coming back home so late? You know it gets dangerous at night." My mom walked in with her hands on her hips just as I started to slow down my breathing.

I tried to sum up a response, but all I could do was stare at her, still poorly affected by my terrible decisions.

"Well?" My mom asked again, still waiting for a reply, as if questioning me was the most important thing on her agenda.

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time." Was all I could muster before I dashed back up the stairs without waiting for my mom to answer.

As soon as I got to my room, I ripped the diary out of my backpack and turned it back to the page I was last on.

Since I had already made the mistake of taking it with me, I might as well read as much as I could. After all, there was no point in not reading it, otherwise all of my hard work in sprinting away was for nothing.

And that was how I had convinced myself that reading all of Ireland's personal information and darkest secrets with her knowledge was 100% okay. 

|--|

Ireland

. . . 

Even though rage and fury was starting to bubble up inside of me, I could only watch as Lazlo Millgrove ran off with the one thing that I told everything. And I mean everything.

I was going to kill him tomorrow.

It was as if I had been stuck to the ground, unable to move even if everything in my body told me to run. To run after the boy who stole my diary, the same boy that I wrote about and tormented constantly. The one boy who I might have started to grow feelings for, and the one boy who had access to that secret and many more.

And still, I remained glued to the spot.

When he was finally out of sight, I sat down in the grass and tried to remember what I had written in that diary. That stupid diary. Who wrote every aspect of their life in a diary anyways? Sadly, that person would be me.

I couldn't figure out what was the most stupid action I had made. Writing down my entire life in a diary with excruciating detail, or bringing said diary to school where it could easily slip out of my backpack.

Either way, I blamed myself.

I sighed in defeat, and picked myself up, looking down at the millions of texts from my dad asking where I was.

I rolled my eyes.

It's not like he actually cared, anyways. The only reason he wanted me home was because we always had dinner at the exact same time every night so that my mom and dad could feel like they were actually good parents who paid attention to our lives.

I quickly texted him that I was on my way home, hoping that it would calm him down, and hopped on my bike.

I tried not to think about what Lazlo was doing at this moment, and instead decided to think about all the homework I still had to finish. It wouldn't do me any good to worry and fuss over what he could be possibly reading, or what he was thinking. Even though I so desperately wanted to turn this topic over and over again in my mind, I forced myself not to.