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This diary entry is written by CrazyMeaghanJellieBeanie. ( View all entries )
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Followed Ch.1 The Letter PreviewCategory: (general)
Saturday, 23 January 2010
02:07:08 AM (GMT)
I was nodding off in social class, it was boring and it felt like the movie
Ferris Bueller's day off, Except no one was skipping class to go off and have
fun, and the no kid was playing sick and the teach wasn't saying:
"Bueller, Bueller, Bueller." No instead he was repeating these words over and over
again: "The Indians Were Actually Native Americans." I had already learned this, so
would it really matter if I slept threw the class? I thought it wouldn't, but then
again the mean popular kids would probably stick notes all over me, or they'd leave
me be and I'd get caught when the bell rang.
   But I did end up falling asleep, let me just be honest, if something is completly
and utterly boring, I will  fall asleep, I can only stay awake if something
intrests me. I didn't wake till the bell rang, and I was glad to find I had no sticky
notes stuck to me, I was safe, I was even gladder I hadn't gotten caught, and I was
excited because today was friday, and socail was my last period of the day, I could
go home, kick back and relax. Of course I would of wanted to go out, but there was
one problem with that, I didn't have any friends, absouletly none, kids always
groaned when they had to be paired with me, saying some remark like:
"Sleezy Elena, sersouily? Who'd wanna work with that slut?" It bugged me, but I
didn't let them know that, I had to be strong. And just because you're 6'0, thin,
pale skinned, creamy blonde hair, green cat like eyes and wear skinny jeans with tank
tops and having no friends at all doesn't make you a slut, I didn't even know how
that roumor got started, I had known these kids all of my life, and the roumors
didn't start till I hit high school, sure I had more advantages than the other girls,
I was more athletic, naturally thin and my chest was a little big, but that didn't
make me a slut. I think they were just mainly cruel and jealous. 
    I headed out to my car, my should strap white with a pink stripe bag over my
shoulder, I was putting my book away, and when I looked up I wasn't really surprised
to see what I saw.
   My car was spattered with wash off paint, but that wasn't the problem, it was the
words. "Insane, sleezy, whore, slut, bitch, dozey, easy lay, go back to the mental
center!" Were all over, on my windowshield and door. I sighed and grabbed my two
water bottles that I carried and the paper towel roll I carried, I had gotten used to
this. I started washing off the paint, luckily it wasn't dry so it slicked right off.
But I didn't get how they knew I had been in a mental hospital, that had been six
years ago now, I had been put in one when I was ten, I couldn't remember why, which
insanely bugged me, and I was released at the age of eleveen, and then my mom
wouldn't take me back so I went to live with my grandma, the only people that knew of
my placement was the school, mom and grams. I sighed again and put my cleaning stuff
away as I hopped into my white suzuki and started up the engine, I pressed play on
the CD thing and the song "The Best Day" by Taylor Swift came on, yeah sure, best
day. I slowly pulled out of the parking spot and headed to my grandmother's house,
who cares about stupid stuck up rich preppy west side kids, I had the country, grams
and my car, and might I add, a nice imagnation.

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