01 April 2017

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
The first part (introduction) of my mini-series that will be added to daily. It is about the life of a teen girl, Amanda, though her name is not written, as this story is meant to be portraying her diary. Enjoy :)

Submitted: April 02, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 02, 2017



01 April 2017

Dear Diary, everything is as usual in the Keaton house as I roll over onto my side and reach for my phone to check my Instagram and Facebook. It seems that, in a sense, these things have taken over me in a daunting way, as they seem to be the first things I think about each morning when I wake up.

Unfortunately, it never feels quite right to get up and out of bed in the morning at this particular household, as it was overcome with an eerie silence, and filled with darkness. This seems to be the case every morning. I am normally the last one in the house to wake up, and not to my surprise, I find the house completely empty.

I take advantage of this, and I enter the kitchen with greedy eyes. I feel as though I can never eat under the staring eyes of Adriana. She has such a judgmental, and icy façade. So, today, I shall be feasting. And by feasting, I mean eating porridge and tea in my room just because I know I’m not allowed. It’s very good porridge. But I was rushed to finish it as a heard the abrupt slam of the door and the entry of mystery human no.1 and possibly more.

I creep out of my room with my bowl tucked behind my back, as if it would actually do something, and as I walk down the long and dark corridor, I peer down the stairs and see that Adriana is sitting on the couch putting my half-brother, Peter, to sleep. Peter, whilst should bring me joy in every way possible, is the reason for all this unnatural and unsettling quiet. As if, all the time was sleep time. As if not to wake Peter up, and not to annoy Adriana, I place my bowl with extreme care into the sink and it leave it, yet to be washed.

Of course, later, Adriana got upset about it, as if I were trying to tell her she had to clean up after me by simply placing my dirty bowl in the sink. Obviously, I was trying to be thoughtful, but I understand why she has been getting angry and upset so much lately.

Her and my father are together and they recently had a baby together. Unfortunately, afterward, Adriana was diagnosed with extreme depression and had to start taking stupid medication to help her get better, but it’s side effects are horrible. Including this one.

After that upsetting encounter, I allowed myself to sit on the couch next to the fireplace, rolled up in blankets with a good book and my phone, as of course, it is the first day of my school holidays, and I really do need a break. While I am reading a book, I get distracted by a text I receive from my best guy friend, Andy, and in less than a minute, we’re chatting away via text about all this pointless stuff until I make a mention of the contact name I have for him and how it makes him sound like my boyfriend, and before I know it we’re coming up with crazy romantic scenarios of how we could’ve met. And it makes me sad. I could have him in an instant. He would be perfect for me. But my heart doesn’t want to cooperate and so I’m left falling for Archie, the talented. Archie, the kind. Archie, the sporty. Archie the popular. Archie, the beautiful. Archie, the boy of my dreams. Archie, the boy who will never like me the way I like him. Not even in the slightest.

And in just under 5 minutes I’ve brought myself to the same sad conclusion, I probably will just end up alone with my army of cats, all named Bob Marley. Andy and I like to joke about that.

As I wallow, I spend the majority of the rest of my day watching a new show I found on Netflix and I’m just hooked. Unfortunately, I have to wait a whole week for the next episode, so my binge watching was ended too soon.

After a bit of pep talk from myself, I stepped out of my room and I went down to the lounge and had tea with my dad and Adriana, who seems in this moment, to actually be herself, the person she was before all of the depression, the person I knew and loved, but had to let go of. I just had to remember that it wasn’t her fault and that she would get better again eventually. After a bit of tea, and some reading time, I came back to my room and claimed to be going to sleep.

That’s how I found myself writing this for a reason completely unknown to me. Maybe I can vent this way, let everything out through the form of writing, which I so loved doing.

And then as she closed her eyes to sleep, she thought, ‘I might actually do this again tomorrow.’


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