The Diary of the Devil

The Diary of the Devil [10]

NO ONE COMMENTS ON MY STORIES!!! I'm sad. :'( Don't you guys want to make me happy? After all, I have been in and out of the hospital the past two weeks. Shouldn't I get a little joy? And even though there could be something wrong with my brain, I still manage to upload for you. Even if it kills me! The only thing that will help me go on is your faithful comments. And votes. And fans. PLEASE???? :)

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The next day in school I was a nervous wreck. Every touch from someone sent me jumping. I avoided Max like the plague. Did she know her diary was gone? Would she look for it if she did? Would she think I took it and kill me? Does she even remember it? Maybe she hasn't written in it for a while. I hoped she hadn't. I prayed she didn't write in it every night. But then again, it would be interesting to know her thoughts and secrets. What I didn't understand was why there wasn't a lock on it. Diaries usually hold the key to one's heart, right? Doesn't one usually lock away a key? Especially someone like Max. Even if I knew her, I didn't know her secrets, emotions, and thoughts. There were some things you just don't share with people, and therefore must share it with an inanimate object with blank pages.

A burning curiosity told me to keep it, learn a few things from it. As much as I wanted to open it last night, I couldn't. My conscience was strong and told me to get rid of it. Well, I didn't. I couldn't very well toss it out the window. Someone else might find it. Someone not as nice as me. Who knew what someone else would do with it?

I didn't know why I didn't just give it back to her. Sure, she might be angry and almost rip my balls off, but if I explained to her what happened and how it ended up in my back pack, maybe I could walk away with my life. Then again... It's not everyday a spectacular opportunity like this presents itself to you. This could be a one in a lifetime chance for me. Maybe it'll tell me why Max is so mean to me, or why she's going out with Blake, or what she dreams of at night.

The only time I actually saw Max and approached her was when she was slamming poor George Soto against the lockers and terrorizing him until he cried. She was whispering something in his ear, their bodies pressed close together. She looked dangerously close to kissing him, which I found weird. I thought she hated him.

"Max," I called, yanking on her shoulder and turning her around. She stumbled but let go of George who scampered away looking terrified.

"When did you get so strong?" she asked, slapping my hand away. "And what do you want? You just ruined something important."

"Stop being mean to him," I scolded. She rolled her eyes but didn't continue on the subject.

"Last night I noticed something was missing. A possession of mine," she explained, narrowing her eyes at me suspiciously. "A private possession."

All of a sudden it became very hard to swallow. My neck prickled and want to throw myself at her feet, apologizing and explaining why I had it. My knees trembled, and I found it hard to stand up by myself, so I leaned against a pillar. My face burned. Couldn't she just hit me and put me out of my misery already?

"I know you took that thong you found in my car," she said.

"I'm so sorry!" I cried, throwing my hands up over my eyes. "Wait, what?"

"That thong? The one you said would look good on a Victoria's Secret model? I need it back. Meg's birthday is coming up soon and that's what she wanted."

"Oh, that," I laughed, relieved. "No, I didn't take that."

"Yeah, right, you horny fool. Who else might have taken it?"