Let The Fire Start (Editing)

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

I sat on the lower bunk, on the left wall. There was a simple green blanket

lying on the mattress, with two white pillows. I opened my duffel bag and

grabbed my grandma's purple handmade quilt, and my old stuffed cat. I

spread the blanket on the bunk and smoothed every crease. I placed my

bear on the pillow and looked at my bed. It was nothing like my bed at home.

My bed had a neon pink comforter with flowers embroidered at the edges.

I started sorting my clothes into the vanity. And placed my jewelry box on

the top. My whole family had always been neat freaks. They had passed it on

to me.

After all my stuff was in place, I looked in my bag. At the bottom was a book,

that looked familiar. I opened it to the first page and saw my signature in my

sloppy writing.

Hazel's Diary

Do not look inside.

Age 11-13

When I had been eleven, my friend had started to hate me. Evelyn had

moved on from plain old me, that's when I had started to be more confident.

From then to when I was fifteen I had been the most popular person in my

sophomore class. But that was last year. Now being a junior, or was one, I

had stopped being so out there. I stopped being a part of everything. I

stopped going to every party. I went to a few but not all. I was still popular,

but not the most. It was great, I didn't have to impress everyone, only my

friends.

But I would never forget my preteen years. That was when I had been

bullied, picked on, and been classified as unimportant by all my friends.

Those years I had kept secret from everyone. Nobody knew what had

happened or what it did to me.

I flipped the page to the beginning. It said.

September 3. Dear Diary,

My friend Evelyn hung out with me yesterday, now she wont even look at me.

I don't know why? It seems she only likes me when I wear my contacts and

makeup. But when I wear no makeup, and my glasses it seems like I don't

exist. Why won't she talk to me? I overheard my mom and dad talking about

wanting another child. Am I not good enough? Are they bored with me? I hope

the baby dies.

I closed the book. I had lived these moments. I don't want to read about my

horrible years. Even though it was a long time ago I had felt bad about what

I said. My parents deserved another beautiful baby. Maybe if I didn't wish

that it died, it could've lived. I lay down on my bed and closed my eyes. I

thought about how I might not be able to graduate from junior year, or even

senior. I flexed my hand and the familiar warmth spread over my fingertips.

Little sparks of fire started, but I distingushed them before they could grow.

I didn't want to start another fire and burn down the site. I closed my eyes

and tried to forget the whole crappy day. I soon fell asleep.

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Hey everyone!

Just to let all the people who read my other books, I deleted them because I didn't think they were good. And I want to concentrate on the Fire Series before I go any further. Maybe sometime I will bring back the other books, The Cursed Ones, You Don't Know What It's Like, and Step Out Of The Spotlight, Young Dancer.

Just if you wanted to know.

Peace to the world!

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