The Diaries of a Socially Awkward Teenager

1. Busted

Dear Diary,

You know that moment when you had nothing to say? When the silence grows and grows like that irritating buzzing sound that bees make until it's almost unbearable?

Oh yeah. Thats how I felt now. Buzzing. Absolutely Buzzing.

My face reddened slowly, unwillingly as I begged my brain to stop. I guess my brain didn't like me today- it hadn't been much use as far as I could tell. I squeezed my eyes shut- in front of everyone and took a deep breath. Not today, not today, not today...

Laughter broke the silence like a knife. Sharpened to perfection. Cutting up vegetables like nothing else. People pointed at me. They whispered to each other, buzzing. Just like I was. Buzzing with the latest gossip- the entertainment for the next week or so, which unfortunately was me.

Lets go back to the start. (If only I could do so in my physical form and not just writing to you).

It was a monday. Yes, that monday where you're begging your alarm clock not to go off and to set off a chain reaction of events that would pile atop of each other until there was an ultimate and (knowing me), unpleasant finale.

Unfortunately, the alarm clock did go off.

It wasn't the best alarm- just a repetitive 'Beep, beep beep beep' that came from my small, state-of-the-art Nokia phone. My parents couldn't be bothered to change it just yet.

I drowsily picked up my phone, accidentally pressing the snooze button. Don't you hate it when that happens? So I attempted to unfuzz my brain while locating the Settings button. Then date and time.. Oops. Back Button. Date and time. Alarm. Clock. Off.

Off.

My alarm was finally off and I could start the wonderful process that some human, centuries ago had named 'Monday'.

Who knows what they were thinking.

I rolled out of bed, hitting the hard wooden floor with a familiar 'thump'. My back ached from yesterday's sporty activities (heaven knows what mum forced me into this time) that my body really wasn't made for.

A strange fluffy object writhed against my leg- Fuzzy probably took drugs again. Suddenly, a sharp item pierced the soft skin of my foot. Ow.

I ran down the stairs, chased relentlessly by Fuzzy who had the courtesy to hit the backs of my legs when I came to an abrupt halt. It was seven o'clock in the morning already!

I panicked, lashing out and thankfully missing Fuzzy while locating the breakfast cereals. No time for toast, just Anabella (my six-year-old sister)'s beloved Coco Pops with some milk. I multitasked, pulling on my shirt and tights while trying to scoop some soggy cereal into my mouth.

It was impossible.

I opted instead to change and then have the cereal but my shirt was inside out. Methodically, I took my shirt off and began to pull it on when I froze. I blushed. A hot wave rushed throughout my body. The neighbour's Hollister-worthy son, Gordon, was washing his beloved Porsche outside of my window. Topless. The small droplets of clean, soapy water ran down his toned stomach and settled above his low-riding jeans. They slid lower and lower until...

He was watching me!

I was half-naked!

In my underwear...

I ran to the window, just catching his cocky, arrogant smirk as he took a photo with his phone before shutting the blinds on him.

I wiped my brow- my status had pretty much detoriated over the past few weeks and a close call with Gordon Price, the son of Michael Price, creator of 'Pricey-Anderson Foods'; a well-known and popular man in the community; would surely not worsen my sentence.