Nothing but Hurt

Chapter 8: "I'll Write in it Later"

Dear Diary, I wrote at the top of a blank page in the journal I hadn't written in since I was 9 years old, before going back to the top of the page and scribbling down the date.

It's been such a long time since I last wrote here. I mean, it's been 3 years, and so much has changed. We're amid a whole dam pandemic (Yes, I'm now a Percy Jackson fan and the me you know would NOT be proud).

Oh right, you don't even know the story. So, in like 1st grade, after I had finished reading the first book, I got into an argument with a 7th grader who said that Percy Jackson was better than Harry Potter, and it escalated so much to the point where I swore to never read the series. But boredom and lack of good books to read got to me and I honestly don't regret it.

Anyway, I've changed a lot. For example, I wrote, a small smile on my face as the blank pages were starting to fill once more, satisfaction bursting in my chest as I watched the ink color the pages and-

"Mina!" My mom shouted from the living room. When I ignored her, wanting to write a bit more, she yelled again. "MINA!"

I slammed the cover of my diary shut, running my fingers through the purple fur that surrounded the picture of Anna and Elsa in the middle. "What?!"

"Come here and help me set the table," she yelled back.

I groaned but rolled off my bed and walked to the dining room with a horrible posture, taking out four plates from the dishwasher. They were the generic kind, white ceramic with bluish-green flowery designs on the circular edges, plus one steel plate that my younger brother ate from. "I was writing in my diary."

My mom snorted. "Yeah right." She held up a dish that was filled with hot dal. "Put the coaster in the center of the table."

I did as asked and watched her place it on the coasters before heading inside the kitchen and bringing out the metal container where my moms stored the rotis. "I was!"

My mom rolled her eyes. "What's the special occasion?"

I pouted, holding the ghee container under some running hot water to melt the ghee inside so it would be easier to spread on the rotis. "I just felt like it." I swirled the ghee inside it and when I heard it splashing against the round sides, I turned off the tap and set it on the dining table between two plates before sitting down at my chair and serving myself two rotis. I began tearing it up into small pieces so I could mix it with the dal, which in my opinion, made it taste a bit better.

"Call your brother first," My mom told me before heading into her bedroom to call my dad, who was working from home there.

I slumped against the stiff chair. "Mukesh!"

"Coming!" He yelled back from his position lying down on the couch and playing Minecraft on the iPad. He played the game more than me even though I had paid for it.

"Come right now!" I told him. "And get off the iPad."

"No."

"Mukesh is being annoying again, Aai!" I called out to my mom as soon as she walked out of the bedroom. For some reason, we were all yelling even though our apartment wasn't exactly very big.

"He's little, deal with it," she told me crossly.

I rolled my eyes and started eating. In a couple of minutes, Mukesh joined too but before my mom even finished tearing up the roti for him, I was already done with my dinner, having eaten some rice as well. Running to the bathroom, I washed my hands before heading back to my bedroom where I fell back on the bed and stared at the childish journal in front of me that I had bought when I was 6 or so.

"Eh," I shrugged. "I'll write in it later." I then pulled up my phone and continued rereading Cinder.

I did not write it later.

A/N I am so sorry cause at this point I'm just doing filler chapters. The next chapter will have some more things in there, but I just wanted to keep up with the schedule which is why this is so short and just meaningless to the plot.