Tween Going On Teen

PART ONE: Chapter 1

Tween Going On Teen

(A Diary Novel)

PART ONE

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Chapter 1

Name: Christine Briggs

Age: 12

D.O.B: 11th May

Address: 19 Abagail Place, Clayton

School: Clayton Primary

Class: 6J

I filled in the blank spaces in the front of my lined diary, trying to look busy. I frowned at my name. Why couldn't it be Christin-a? Christina's such a pretty name and all my folks had to do, was replace the 'e' with an 'a'! Christina sounds like a singer, or a skateboarder, or a fairy. Christin-e, on the other hand, sounds like a snivelling nerd...

Adam's demented smirk was giving me the creeps; I could feel his gaze pressing into my back, as shivers tangoed up and down my spine.

My mum bought me this new diary, with a wonderful pink and purple floral pattern gracing the cover and a piece of neon-pink elastic to bound the pages shut. I ran my hand across the smooth texture. It came in a set, with a matching ballpoint pen, stickers and stamps. If only my mum wasn't just up-to-date with my love of stationary, but with what I want in terms of possessions - a phone.

Phones are so cheap now and is it that hard to go down to the store and buy one? I think not! I've wanted a phone for around three Christmases in a row now:

First Christmas: a GPS...... for a car. I had only been nine!! And I had specifically noted that I wanted a hand-held one! But alas, not a mobile.

Second Christmas: a Barbie doll. Ten years old and what do I get? A doll! I never even liked them when I was little! Still no phone...

Third Christmas: a training bra; which I unwrapped in the lounge room next to the Christmas tree, in front of all my aunties and uncles and grandparents and cousins and flashing cameras, merrily thinking it was the ol' box-inside-a-box trick and I was actually getting a mobile! No sir, it was not at all a mobile phone, I'll tell you that!

I shuddered, thinking back on that hideously embarrassing moment. How thrilled and excited I had been! I had unwrapped it as fast as I could, anticipating the moment when the green and red wrapping would reveal a shiny new phone! But instead, I opened the box-lid to see that disgusting piece of clothing. I was so crestfallen. I still searched beneath it for it, hoping it was all a joke! Boy, the cameras sure did snap as I held it up, pulling the best smile I could.

For ten months, I had been searching everywhere for that photo! I found it once, in an envelope of all the Christmas 'happy-snaps', as my parents call them, in the cupboard containing our hot water cylinder. Nicking Dad's lighter off his bedroom bookshelf while he was at work, I set fire to it. That's right; after nearly burning my hand trying to figure out how to work it, I finally, properly, turned the little metal wheel and pressed the black button down at the same time, releasing a one centimetre high, flickering flame of red and orange.

It was such an amazing feeling, seeing that horrible picture go up in flames! I laughed like a pyromaniac who'd just down the mother of all crimes - burning a signed-copy of Harry Potter & The Philosopher's Stone. No, I'm kidding, no human could be as heartless as that; pyromaniac or not!