Status: I'm still writing this story. However, since I have hardly any readers, no comments, and no subscribers, I am going to take a break from posting until more people are interested.
Dear Diary,
Entry One
Dear Diary,
Uh. Wait. Did I just say “dear diary”? Wow. What a total nerd! I’ve never been the type to write a diary. First off, my life just isn’t really exciting. Secondly, it just isn’t me. I’m not one of “those” girls, whatever they may be. Or at least, I wasn’t - maybe I am now, with my “dear diary” talk. Oh well, who cares?
Well, my name is Nicole. You, however, may call me Nikky, like everyone else I know. No one has referred to me as Nicole since I was little. I’m sixteen. I drive a Blue Chevy Malibu. I love it. It’s old, but it still gets me where I need to be.
My best friend is…well it’s high school. How do you really know if people are real? I guess my best friend is you.
My love life is completely non-existent. I like it that way. Well, I’m used to it that way. I guess I like it. Okay - who am I kidding? I see couples at school, in movies, or I read about them in books. I want that. You know, the one. The one who knows everything about you, and loves all of it - even the bad things. That’s not likely to happen though.
Don’t even ask about my family. My parents and I don’t really communicate. I clean, I take care of myself, I don’t rely on them for much. Just a roof over my head, and my car. They did that much for me. They bought me my escape from the house. But only because they don’t really care if I leave. They don’t really want me. I was an accident. Two sixteen year olds, the back seat of a Chevy, no condom, and many raging hormones. All of this added up to me. They resent me. They resent the fact that I took their childhood - their freedom. It’s noy my fault though. I never asked to be born. No one would miss me if I wasn’t here.
Well, this is a lot for one entry. I’ll let you soak this in. Farewell.
Uh. Wait. Did I just say “dear diary”? Wow. What a total nerd! I’ve never been the type to write a diary. First off, my life just isn’t really exciting. Secondly, it just isn’t me. I’m not one of “those” girls, whatever they may be. Or at least, I wasn’t - maybe I am now, with my “dear diary” talk. Oh well, who cares?
Well, my name is Nicole. You, however, may call me Nikky, like everyone else I know. No one has referred to me as Nicole since I was little. I’m sixteen. I drive a Blue Chevy Malibu. I love it. It’s old, but it still gets me where I need to be.
My best friend is…well it’s high school. How do you really know if people are real? I guess my best friend is you.
My love life is completely non-existent. I like it that way. Well, I’m used to it that way. I guess I like it. Okay - who am I kidding? I see couples at school, in movies, or I read about them in books. I want that. You know, the one. The one who knows everything about you, and loves all of it - even the bad things. That’s not likely to happen though.
Don’t even ask about my family. My parents and I don’t really communicate. I clean, I take care of myself, I don’t rely on them for much. Just a roof over my head, and my car. They did that much for me. They bought me my escape from the house. But only because they don’t really care if I leave. They don’t really want me. I was an accident. Two sixteen year olds, the back seat of a Chevy, no condom, and many raging hormones. All of this added up to me. They resent me. They resent the fact that I took their childhood - their freedom. It’s noy my fault though. I never asked to be born. No one would miss me if I wasn’t here.
Well, this is a lot for one entry. I’ll let you soak this in. Farewell.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thoughts?