Hello, my name is Juliana Johnson. Right now I'm supposed to tell you how delusional I am, but instead I'm gonna tell you how the hell I ended up here.
Well let's see, I'm writing in the diary I've had since I was kid, ten years old to be exact. I never wrote in it, but I always kept it with me in the hopes that I would one day and here we are. I'm confiding in it because it's all I have left. I was given a journal when I checked into this stupid asylum but the dumb headed nurses let me keep my childhood diary since it was empty. They weren’t supposed to give me one since they let me keep mine, but still gave me the dang journal so I have one fake journal and one true journal and it’s pretty obvious which one is which. Now, I know what you're thinking, but before I go on, yes I've been stuck in a mental asylum for about two weeks. Lucky for me two weeks was all I needed to devise my plan to escape. Oh, don't worry I'm not breaking out to kill someone. I'm perfectly normal, and I know that's what all crazy people say but just trust me on this.
I'm escaping because someone got me in here purposefully. My school had this brain test done on all the new freshmen and I don't know how but they messed with my test. Apparently, I have potential to be mentally disfigured. Who woulda thought? These dimwit nurses are probably in on it too because they hide the truth from the head-honcho who can get me out of here for good. They drug my food to make me hallucinate. So every opportunity I get when inspection comes and I can finally get out of here without any problems, I just ruin it. I start talking about how the heck James Dean got into my bed and have conversations with the walls asking them why they're so boringly white with slurred words and over exaggerated hand gestures like Jack Sparrow. I don't know why they do this but I'll find out soon enough. Now it's time to turn in the false diary with the delusions so I can buy myself more time to get my questions answered. I mean might as well keep what they want hidden right?
Love,
Juliana
I sat on my bed going over my plan to escape. I put my false diary into the food trough when they picked it up. That stupid nurse with the creepy pitch black eyes gave me a grim smile, as if telling me that I'm doing a good job and I'll be here for a long time. Douche bag. She eyed me once more because I had looked her square in the face and mouthed douche bag to her. Serves her right! Okay, I can't lose focus now, the plan, the plan! As she walked away with an obvious grudge toward me, I stuck my tongue out at her to show her I wasn’t backing down. After she left without even one glance back, I placed my back flat on the ground and looked toward the ceiling. There was my tiny paper folded neatly and taped up to hold snug with the very little duct tape I had found on my bed in the first week or so.
Best plan ever! It was such an amazing plan and I was so clever to hide it up there. My plan was so full proof it could be Chuck Norris! Oh how I love this beautiful mind of mine. I get my fathers’ brains and my mother’s good looks. My mother is drop dead gorgeous and I swear was a top-notch model when she was sixteen to eighteen. I'm not saying my dad isn't gorgeous either, but my mom had so much beauty that she could've gotten anyone she wanted. She typically chose the bad boy, who honestly didn’t have one bad bone in his body. The things my father did for popularity and hot chicks.
My dad...yeah, I can't see him as a bad boy. I mean he's got the scars, but he has a heart and doesn't show the potential to commit crime or start trouble at all. The visual of my parents kept my hopes up. That soon enough, I'll be home getting playful knuckle sandwiches from my only other sibling, my older brother Alexander. Believe it or not, what was always a torture to me, it was the one thing I looked forward to when I finally escaped. It would remind me that I would finally, and truly, be home. I felt the sting of tears fill my eyes, but I remembered what I promised my brother when he taught me how to fight after that busted lip from 'Ms. Popularity'.
Stay strong, never show weakness, never back down and remember what you're fighting for.
I remembered his words, loud and clear, and with a blink or two the tears were completely gone. Well, now that my plan was safe, unseen, and out of reach to those bimbos, I can dream. Dream of being in the comfort of my bed, surrounded by my colorful walls, instead of the thin material I sleep on with bland white walls that seemed to trap my will to go on.
(sorry it's so short.. i'm going to be doing edits when i have it all lined up and ready to go:))
