Journal of a 16 year old boy

Journal entry 3

June 21, 2013

It's all gone.

My prized positions.

My black mane.

It's replaced with a brown spike.

I can't believe it. You can cut my hair, but not die it. It sucks now.

I look terrible.

Of course it was Addi's idea. She hated how my hair didn't look like the rest of the family.

I haven't left my room for hours. I'm lying in my room not speaking. My curtains are shut closed tight. My room is dark.

I hate my hair. I hate it.

I can't find my glasses, I have lost my pride and joy, and I have no life.

Yay.

Well, I hope by next week I'll be better. Maybe I'll actually get up to eat. Maybe I'll play guitar. Oh I don't know.

I wish this wasn't real. I hope I'm just dreaming and my hair would be back when I wake. I hope so. I miss it already. I missed it 5 minutes after I lied eyes on it.

Addi seemed very pleased. She said it suits me, and my name.

I laughed at her. She don't know what suits me and what don't.

And she used the stupid 'don't you want girls to think your cute at school next year?' Trick.

No.

All they are is heartless and mean. No.

Question time.

If you could go anywhere in the world where would you go?

Easy. My ancestors were from Ireland, so I'd go there! :)

What do you like to watch on tv?

And this is an entry of a Journal of a 16 year old boy.

I don't like T.V. I would much rather read comics :)