Stories That I Never Finished

Dear Diary

~Chapter 1~

Dear Diary,

Today is 1-2-16. I feel betrayed, my friend went off with my crush. I've never told anyone about my crush, so how can I say my friend betrayed me. I try not to think about it, she tells me all about it. How it feels to be liked, to be loved, to have the same things in common with each other. She rubs it in my face. If I she knew that I loved him, she'd let me have him, let me have a chance with him. I agree, smile, and laugh with her about it. Why does this always happen to me?

I should tell all about myself now... If this is ever used as blackmail I'll... I'll do something.

My name is Andra Jacie. I'm 15 years old and I have some friends, online and irl. Mostly online, but... nvm. It is true, I'm depressed. Tho, no one knows. It's a secret that NO ONE can find out. I have brown hair, hazel eyes, and I wear a black hoodie. No, I don't wear makeup. I think you should never wear it, but I don't judge when other people wear it. People look pretty when they wear makeup. To me, it causes more acne and makes me disgusting.

There I explained myself. Why don't I tell more about myself? Just in case someone gets their hands on this.

I guess I should tell about school. I get bullied, terribly. No one helps me, not even my closest friend. I understand why. They don't want to get the same treatment as me. True friends, right?

That sounds like a good ending to leave off, but I'm not one for a cliffhanger. Well, I guess I should leave it here. My first page of writing in this diary and maybe my last. Well, it's getting late, bye person who's never going to read this.

~AJ

~~~~~~~~~~~

Beep. Beep. Beep. I slam my hand on the rusted, metal alarm clock. I sigh in pain from the contact of metal against my hand. I pull my hand back and rub my eyes. As I do that, I try to remember the events that had happened yesterday.

I walked down the hall, noticing every single glance and glare that was given to me for a reason. I blew the hair out of my face, making my acne show. That was a bad mistake, as soon as I did that people said "ew" and "gross". Some even snickered. I keep wondering why. Why? Why did this have to happen to me?

I shake and place my hands on both of the sides of my head, so the memories don't haunt me for the time being. I push myself up, my body sore from constant running from people that weren't nice.

Run, I tell myself. If I don't run... let's just say that can't happen. I jump across puddles and trash that had to lead me to a dead end. I look for a possible way out, an exit that has to exist. I scan the area, finding a garbage can and a brick wall that has been violated with spray paint. I run to the garbage can and jump onto it. Then, I climb the brick wall that had blocked my way. I could feel all the little pieces of the brick digging, piercing into my skin. Tho, I don't pay attention to it.

As I jump over the wall, I land in a metal dumpster, thankfully that had a mattress in it to break my fall. I didn't hesitate a second to close the rusted doors, leaving only a little light. I hear noises coming closer every second. Hearing every yelp from the people that were climbing the brick wall. Every so often, they would jump down because the tiny pieces of brick were making them bleed. A few minutes later, they just gave up and left. Not giving a care in the world if I had gotten away.

I shake my head again, not wanting to remember the way home. Why do I live in the past, but also live in the present? Is it a gift or a curse? My mom said not to question life's ways. I shake my head for the third time and push myself up. I opened my eyes for the first time today, the light blinding me. I kept blinking so my eyes would adjust to the amount of light in the room.