~ Dear Diary... ~
by Hillsys Stalker
E-mail: aliceprogram@hotmail.com

Disclaimers: The characters in this story alllll belong to me. ALL MINE! Please don't take them. Sexual Disclaimers: There's pretty much no sex, but there will eventually (hopefully) be a relationship between two consenting women, but nothing will go beyond kissing and hugging. Of course, there will be mentions of sex, just to warn you. Author's Note: This is just an 'in-between' story to keep everyone occupied while I try to write more on Earth's Savior. There is no definite ending for this story in mind right now. Also, this is the first time I've ever written in this kind of point of view and format. Constructive Criticism is appreciated.


Wow, itís been a while since Iíve written in a diary. I guess this was just one of those things that I just have to write down. So, I got asked something funny today. I was asked if I was a lesbian. It was kind of strange. I mean, all I did was ask Angela and Jenny if they wanted to go to the movies with me over the weekend since we didnít get to go last week. Itís amazing, really. Iíve actually started to make friends. I mean, besides Brad and Kaitlyn. Eighth grade really is a great grade. I mean, Iíve been trying really hard to pass my classes, unlike the last couple of years. I guess itís because Iíve been trying to get ready for high school. Anyways, back to the topic that I meant to discuss.

Well, Angela has been trying to set me up with this boy, Adam, and I really donít like him. Heís DISGUSTING! I mean, I know Iím not the greatest looking person at the school (In fact, Iím probably the worst looking one) but I think I deserve a little bit better than him! Heís rude, insensitive, and a pig. He asked me to dance with him at the Spring Dance and I couldnít turn him down. I mean, Iíd feel really bad if I said no. So, I dance with him and there ends up being a rumor that him and I are dating. As if. I know I sound a little vain and shallow, but I would never ever date him! Heís just not my type, and itís not just because of the way he looks. Wow, I went off topic again. It has got to be this pent up rage Iím feeling.

So, in one of Angelaís schemes to get us together, she tries to get me to go out to the movies with her, Jenny, Adam, Brandon, and Sammy. I say yes but then we end up not being able to go. I forgot what we were going to go see, but thatís not the point. So, today I asked her if her and Jenny would like to go to the movies over the weekend, since I figured thatís what friends do. Besides, they had already asked me once.

ďAre you trying to ask us out on a date? Are you a lesbian?Ē is what Angelaís response was. Of course Iím not a lesbian. Do I act like one? I mean, I know I donít like talking about guys a lot and Iíve never really had a boyfriend but that doesnít make me gay, does it? I donít think so. Just pretty much undesirable. Oh wellÖ Iím not really interested in a relationship right now anyways, since Iím trying to concentrate on school. I donít need to be worrying about a relationship that wonít last a month on top of that. Ugh, I swear sometimes that middle schoolers think theyíre so mature.

ĎOh look, I have a boyfriend! Iím so cool! Weíre going to last forever!í Yeah right, sweet heart. No matter how often you right his name on your folder, thereís no way you two are going to stay together. Okay, so I am guilty of writing the name of one guy all over my folder. His nameís Randy and heís a cutie pie. I think he might like me. I mean, heís always touching me and talking to me, more than what I can say for most guys. Well, guys do talk to me, but usually itís to ask for a pencil or call me a Ďzit-faced freakí. Okay, itís getting late so I think Iím going to wrap it up for the night. Dad will yell if I donít go to bed. Donít get me wrong; ever since he lost his job, heís been a whole lot less up tight, but that doesnít mean Iím still not afraid of him. I think it was all that yelling he did when I was kid. Mom says I used to be sent to school in tears because he yelled at me so much. I donít remember much about Elementary school, besides the teasing, so I guess Iíll just have to take her word for it. Anyways, gotta go. Heís already heading down the hall. Peace out.


So, I was right about middle schoolers being stupid, and Iím one of the stupid ones. I really was hoping that Randy liked me, but it turns out heís just a male tease. I finally worked up the courage to ask him to the movies, multiple times in fact, but he was always busy. Yet, he has time to hang out with Jenny. I donít know why he acted like he did around me, always touching me on the arm and playing with my hairÖ even though my hair is like, a ratís nestÖ The point is, he made me feel like someone liked me enough to get near me. I canít believe I fell for it. I thought I felt stupid when I gave him that Valentineís Day cardÖ now, I feel even dumber. I have to say though, the Valentine Card was a huge fiasco and I doubt Iíll ever try that again.

So, I work for three hours on this home made card because I donít want to waste the money to buy a card that canít capture my feelings. Plus, I want to let him know that Iím willing to put time into something as simple as a card, just for him. Of course, it wouldnít take a normal person three hours to make a card, but I was havingÖ problems

First of all, scissors hate me. It seems that every time I use a pair, I end up cutting myself and what I was trying to cut out never comes out right. So, instead of using scissors, I pushed down really hard on the paper with a pen until the paper was so worn down that I could just push the little heart out. Secondly, my glue was being retarded and wouldnít come out so I had to dip my finger in it and spread it out on the paper. The card was really nice in the end though. The outside was blue construction paper with ĎWill You Be My Valentine?í written on it and the inside was red with a little blue heart that popped up when you opened it. On the heart it said ĎI Love Youí. I worked sooooo hard on it!

I gave it to him the next day, Valentineís Day, in the cafeteria before school because itís really crowded in there and I wanted to be able to get away before he could question me about it. Well, before he could read it, this jerk Scott tried to take it away from him and ended up tearing the card. I swear I could feel hours of my hard work just being ripped away. And that wasnít the worst of it!

Randy and Scott are in my third hour, history. Scott, being the jackass that he is, announces to the whole class that I love Randy. I was so mortified that I just kind of sank down and tried to melt underneath the seat. What was worse was that I saw Randy trying to do the same thing. Is it really that bad to be liked by me? I guess so. I mean, I could deal with it if Randy simply didnít just like me, but to be embarrassed by the fact that I like him? Letís just say that Valentineís Day will be forever hated by me. Which is exactly what I told Heather in Science class today. That girl makes me so mad! She is such a bitch.

ďTodayís Valentineís Day so I decided Iíd be nice to you but I guess you donít want me to be.Ē is what she told me. All I remember thinking is ďWell gee, thatís really sweet of you. Not.Ē I just told her I was having a bad day, but I guess that wasnít good enough for her and I ended up having to tell her the entire embarrassing story. Not like she cared though. Man, I hate being me.

No one cares about how Iím feeling or bothers to ask what Iím thinking. Sure, I was in that little Ďgirl groupí with Tiffany, Danielle, Emily, Lauren, Jen, and the counselors but I canít really open up to them. Besides, we havenít been meeting ever since Ms. Niger moved to New York. I really liked her too. She had really pretty hair (heck, she was just pretty all around) and very nice. Oh well.


What a busy two months itís been. First of all, Iím pretty much over Randy. There was no way that crush was going anywhere. Although he was really sorry when he found out the big newsÖ Dad died. It was back in May; the thirtieth, to be exact. It was the day right before Memorial Day and the service was two days after. Kind of weird, huh? The weirdest thing is I didnít cry that much. In fact, I havenít cried since the day of his service. I donít think thatís normal. Arenít people supposed to cry more when someone close to them dies? Of course, my dad and I werenít that close. I mean, we barely knew each other. I spent my time avoiding him and his temper. He may not have been physically abusive, but he sure did make me feel like crap by calling me retarded. All I can really think about is how angry I was at him.

First of all, I was angry that he was in the hospital in the first place. They called me out of school on Thursday because my aunt had come to pick me up. I was really confused because I didnít remember my mom telling me that I would be getting out of school early. Then she told me that my dad was in the hospital and that she was taking me to go with my mom to see him. So, we (my aunt, my cousin Shawn, and I) all went to pick up my sister and then head to the hospital. The hospital stay there the first day is really a blur and I canít really remember much. I do remember my mom asking if Iíd rather go to school on Friday or if Iíd want to come visit dad in the hospital. Well, of course I chose visit dad, even if it was for the wrong reason. Anything to get out of school, right? I really wish I had gone to school the next dayÖ

Friday was the day we spent going up and down in the elevator, going from my dadís room to the cafeteria; then back to dadís room; then back down the elevator; then to my grammaís house; then back to the hospital; and finally back at my dadís room. I remember that he was supposed to come home that night because they couldnít do anymore tests on him. So, we were getting ready to leave around nine at night, him complaining the whole time about being stuck there for so long in the first place, and I remember thinking íWhat a babyí. Of course, this reminded me of the time I called him a baby when I caught him crying once when I was eight and HIS dad was in the hospital. That one got me yelled at. Well I how was I supposed to know what was going on? I was eight!

Anyways, Iíll never forget what happened next because it was probably the scariest thing that I had ever seen and will probably remain on the top of that list until I die. He started having a seizure. It was so scary. His eyes just kind of rolled into the back of his head and I didnít know what was going on. My mom called for the nurse and we were sent to the waiting room. We werenít the only ones in the waiting room.

There were a bunch of old people and they were talking about a friend of theirs who was

dying. I couldnít help but listen and think pretty selfish thoughts. Iím not going to delve into them because now I realize how selfish and petty they were.

We were called back into the waiting room an hour later and found out that heíd have to stay another night so they could try to do more tests on him in the morning. He was pretty pissed.

We didnít come in that Saturday because there was a Memorial Day party at my great auntís house. We did call him though, and say we love him. At least, thatís all I told him. I couldnít think of anything else to say. He told us all to have a good time and that he loved us. I guess he knew he wasnít going to make it because the next day was the day we got the call.

My mom was in the shower and the hospital called, telling me to tell her that she needed to hurry.

ďItís never good news when they tell you to hurry.Ē I remember her telling my uncle Ted, who was staying with us temporarily until my dad got home, as we (my mom, my uncle, my sister, and me) drove for the hospital. The half-hour ride there, everyone talked but me. I just kind of listened to the music, letting thoughts run through my head. And then my mom put in a Kenny Chesney CD and I think that was the day I started hating him.

When we got to the hospital, my mom went straight up to Dadís room while we parked the car. When we finally got up to the third floor, a nurse didnít take us to Dadís room, and instead led us to where she took my mom. I swear the sight I saw when I walked through that door was the most heart-breaking thing I will ever see.

My mom was in tears as soon as she saw us walk in and I knew exactly what had happened before she shrieked out those horrible two words that brought my familiar world crumbling down.

ďHeís dead!Ē

I remember shaking for what seemed like forever. Now, I had read about moments where the world seemed to stop for an eternity but I never expected it to really be true. Apparently, it can really happen. After the shaking, the tears finally came.

The funny thing is though, I didnít cry for very long. At least, not as long as I think I should have. I only cried a little at the funeral, too. Is that normal? I donít think it is, because my mom and little sister were balling their eyes out. Why wasnít I? I dunnoÖ

I think the worst thing is that when I got back to school, EVERYONE was sorry for me. Kids who barely even knew me were telling me they were sorry for my loss. Heck, a teacher even let me skip out on a final because she decided what I had just been through was too much. The thing is, I was fine. I feel bad saying it, but itís the truth. At least, Iím more angry than sad. Questions kept running through my head those first few weeks.

Why didnít he go to the hospital when he first got sick? He had been sick for a week and he still didnít go. Because of his choice to wait, heís not going to be around for anything in mine or my sisterís life. What about my first boyfriend? He always said that the day a boy showed up to date me, heíd be standing outside the trailer with his rifle, ready to shoot. Heís going to miss out on my Graduation. Seriously, he got so mad at me when I didnít do well in school, the least he could do is stick around and see me walk across the stage to receive my diploma. What about my wedding? Or my first child? Didnít he want to see me grow up? I think what Iím most angry about is that he left me just as we were getting to know each otherÖ Okay, well Iím glad I finally got that off my chest. I wish I could tell it to someone else though. I canít tell my family because mom would think I didnít love my dad, which isnít true. At least, Iím pretty sure it isnít trueÖ Itíd be so much easier if I had someone to talk to about this stuffÖ

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