Dear Diary,
Today is Saturday. My birthday. My 15th birthday. I think it's odd yet common that my parents gave me a diary. I don't exactly need a diary; I fail to write in them. I guess I have problems, things to talk about.
I'm going to act as if this is kind of a movie script from first person, so you have no idea what they look like. So I'll explain. I have dark brown hair, with bangs cut to my forehead, not quite covering my brown eyes. Porcelin skin, soft as silk. Just kidding. But it's pretty soft- moisturize every day. Lips pink like a bunny's nose. Okay, maybe lighter than that.
I'm not the typical girl. I like darker colors- just because they appeal to me. I wear this jacket all the time that has a big pocket on the inside so I can store things, like this diary. No one will ever get to see it. My little secret. I admit, it's kind of embarassing to have a diary in high school, but this is my book of secrets, right? I'll make that little vow that I always break, promising "I'll write everyday, I swear on my life." I'll change it up:
I'll write at least once a week, I swear on my life. I'll take this diary with me wherever I go, with some exceptions, and I will most definately write out the most juicy, frightening, happy, emotional feelings and events my life crosses.
-Rachel Hobstag ♥
