The Diary of Nick Dolce *ON HOLD*

Preface

Author's Note:

Alright people, I'm going to keep this brief.

This is a fantasy novel based on concepts and ideas of my own making. None of the settings in this story are actual places, except for Earth of course, and our solar system.

None of the characters in this book are real, but are based on real people lookswise. These individuals in this story, as with my other stories, are covered by copyright. Anyone who attempts to steal and duplicate my work will be dealt with by myself personally, so please do not hesitate in notifying me if this is the case.

Thank you, and enjoy the story.

The Diary of Nick Dolce ©

2015

Sarah Allen

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Every day starts out as another boring, uneventful day: you get up, get dressed, brush your teeth, fix your hair, and set foot outside the front door into the great unknown.

For me, every day drags on into one, long, endless struggle. I struggle to fit into normal society; I struggle to come to terms with what species I am; and I struggle to make friends. I guess the only good friend I've made over the five hundred years of my life is Reynaldo White, or Rey as I call him.

From a very young age, Rey knew he was far from the average Joe. The kid could easily score an A+ on his chemistry test, breezing through the questions as if he were merely breathing or blinking. As he grew into a young, troubled adult, he turned to me for help. Who am I?

Why, I am Nicolas James Dolce, Reynaldo's lab assistant and best friend.

I, like all of you humans, grew up on the planet Earth, in a place called New York City - the centre of the world, so they say.

I grew up in on the outskirts of the city, in a place called Rockland County. My mother had worked her way up to a very successful position as CEO of a major corporation, and my father also bathed in hundred dollar notes, slacking off day-to-day at a law firm, earning big bucks and then later on bragging about it to my friends, when they were over, or down at the local pub to homeless people, boasting about how great the economy was when you were rich.

I lived a life of complete luxury, and I hated it. I swear to God, or whoever it is you humans believe in. Personally, I found it hard to stick to and hold one belief, when there was so much destruction and hurt in the world that cannot be explained by simply opening a thick, leather bound book and trying to sound superior. You can all have your beliefs, but in the end, they won't save you from the inevitable: death; oblivion; nothing.

I wish, oh I wish with every fiber of my being, that I could die. What I would give just to be buried in the ground, to not have to wake up every single damn day to repeat everything for the 500th time. I've learned every instrument in the world, because I have too much time on my hands, and even after a few years, it gets boring, so I try and indulge myself in helping out charities and shit.

You humans don't realise just how lucky you are to have a mortal, unyielding life. You get to experience love, laughter, crying, pain, friendship, care, and all of the other simple luxuries that most of, if not all of you, take for granted. I wish I could experience one of the above, but I don't, not anymore since I cursed myself with immortality.