Hey I'm Satan!

Chapter One

Sunday 24th August

Okay, so mum told me to start a diary, that it would make me feel better. Better? I feel effin great! My life is awesome, I have thousands of friends... online, that is. Club penguin. Which I really shouldn't be on anymore considering that I'm 17...

Enough about that! I'm supposed to be writing about feelings, but you know what? I have none! Mother darling, I'm really living up to my name. So, I guess I should introduce myself. I'm Satan. No, really. Damn Diary! Stop laughing! Wait, can books laugh? Ah shit. It's obvious really, why didn't I see it? I'm insane! Ha! Talking to a book as if it could talk back! Wait... was that a feeling I had there... no no no. This cannot be happening to me. Despair! I'm actually writing about emotions? This diary has to be magic...

Or I could be making it up and laughing as I write this. So yeah. Anyway, my names Satan because my darling mother thought it would be fun to go out and get drunk to forget about everything. With my naming card thingamajig in her back pocket. And fill it out. Whilst drunk. And send it off. So that's how I got my name. Satan Lucifer. The worst thing? I'm a girl.

Yes. I know that my life was screwed up from the moment I was named. Seriously though, what do you expect if someone is named Satan? Exactly. You expect a rude, obnoxious boy. BOY. I AM NOT A BOY. At least I have all the necessary features to be a girl... yep. Definitely a girl. Anyways, I guess I should start recording my life up until this point. I was born all the way back in 1997, June 18, in Spain. My parents didn't even know that they were going to have a baby... Should have gone to Specsavers! The thing was, they had only planned to go out there for a single week. One week! Then they went and got themselves into a car crash, leaving my father brain damaged and my mother going into premature labour. Two months premature. So I lived in Spain for the first ten years of my life. Hola amigos!

When I was ten my father gave up his hold on life, so we moved back to England... tragic. Well. It would've been if I had actually known who he was when he didn't dribble like a vegetable. Okay, that may have been rude but seriously! When I got to England I discovered that I spoke with a really strong Spanish accent, and that they only studied French at my school. French I tell you! Now that is the language of the devil... wait that's me... fine, it's the language of... mermaids? Anyway, we got to England, I spoke no Spanish for years and learnt how to use English money (it's so confusing... all the sizes of the coins are mixed up. Why is a two pence bigger than a pound?).

In year 10 I finally went back out to Spain. I guess this is where the story starts really. It was my 16th birthday present from mum, to go back to Spain and see all my old friends again. You see, I hadn't heard from any of them for years, and they were so nice! None of them teased me about my name, like they did in England. I kept it a secret from all of them until that year, and everyone knew me as Lucy, the loud one, the popular one. The one everyone wanted to be. Well, not anymore, bitches. That all stopped once they found out I was called Satan... suddenly I was the devils spawn! (see what I did there? No? Ah. Well that's embarrassing. I really should stop talking to my diary. Which I hate. So why am I writing all of this shit down anyway?)

Anyway, im leaving. I'm tired...also, I hate having a diary. So, no more writing! Ha! You shall not win, oh mother of mine, this diary will stay a closed book forever!

Monday 25th August

Well. So much for that idea. I guess I should say a cheery 'I'm back babes!' but that's not who I am anymore. Now im the sarcastic girl who sits alone at lunch. Surrounded by ex-friends. New enemies. People who just don't give a shit about me. Do-gooders, who come up to me and try to talk to me... I send them packing soon enough. Ha. God, I love my life.

Or should I be praying to Satan?

Nah. If he didn't exist my life wouldn't be so fucked up right now.

Hey, I didn't say this would be a rainbow and ponies diary, okay? I could try, but it would be really fake. But happy. But again, fake. And who would read a rainbow and ponies story anyway? Well.

Possibly me.

But it would be boring! Completely boring!

And if happy ever afters did exist... no. No singing in the diary. It will not happen! Singing goes with the rainbows and ponies... down the toilet! Like my cousin Fifi's barbies. The day after all their hair had been shaved off. And theyd been scribbled over. But to this day we have absolutely no clue who did that! No clue!

Okay, if anyone reads this I'm dead.

But still, no clue who it was!

Anyway... back to my day? Which I should be recording anyway? And not going into this sort of thing. Or anything at all. You know what? I think im overtired. Otherwise I wouldn't be writing all this crap down. I would be simply writing out the events of my day. So. Here they are:

Got up at 1, ate breakfast at 1.10, ate lunch at 1.20, read a book (Silence by Natasha Preston. It's really good!), ate a snack, ate tea, went to the toilet, had a shower, got shouted at for taking too long in the shower, ate a snack, ate some more food, thought about going for a run, told myself that the fluffy white cloud in the sky was, in fact, a rain cloud... didn't convince myself, didn't go for a run, went to bed satisfied with my day of avoiding exercise.

So, that was my day. Now let me add a new event. Throwing this diary across the room and then going to sleep.

Tuesday 26th August

Yeah. It didn't break when I threw it across the room. Naturally, I'm devastated. I mean, not one page broke! Damn! How's that for writing my feelings down? Huh? Not enough... great I'm talking to my diary. Again. That's it. I'm locking this. And throwing the key out the window. See ya Diary!

Wednesday 27th August

Yep. I'm back! I know I said I would lock this and throw away the key, and I did. It just happened to land... on my bed. Yup. So when I went to sleep I woke up, and there it was. Stuck to my arm. I guess that fate just wants me to continue writing in this Diary. Or Satan himself, to punish me for sharing his name. He can have it! Anyway, I go back to school next week last year of sixth form, then finally on to the real world! Or, university. Maybe there I can be Lucy again, a girl that people actually like. Or maybe people from my school will be there, spreading the word about Satan being in the class.

That's actually more likely.

Damn.

How positive this whole thing is! I'm not writing in this thing again until I start school again, so sorry my dear diary. You will be alone once more.