The Red Diary - Chapter 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Every one conceals even the simplest secret. This is a story about a fragile, non-social schoolgirl and the red diary she was given by her dead grandma for times of emotional breakdowns. After the death of her mother, this girl unleashes her feelings of pain and suffering caused by her sick abusive father by writing passionately upon the frail pages of the booklet.

Submitted: May 26, 2012

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Submitted: May 26, 2012



Selena's POV

My eyes fluttered open as the hot rays of the blazing sun beat down on me through the cracks of my auburn curtains, groaning when I stretch out my arms and turn to my clock. 6:30 am—time for me to get ready for my first day at my new high school. Crawling out of bed, I drag my blanket along with me and stumble into the bathroom, continuously rubbing my eyes.

[[20 minutes later]]

I heave myself downstairs, regretting the day ahead as the memories of yesterday take over my mind. My heart is aching of loneliness. I stagger into the kitchen, missing my father and allowing sorrow to consume me. Yes, I know he never treated me right but he was my father, wasn't he? He never acted like one and he definitely never treated me like I was his own. I still feel a huge void in my heart with his absence. Why the fuck do I feel some vulnerable without him?

Shaking my head, I quickly grab a piece of bread and chug down a glass of cold milk, licking the white liquid off my lips. I grasp my rugged old backpack and head out the door, carefully locking the door behind me; I veer my head to the right and notice Cathy's shadow borrowing on her porch as she fixes her flower baskets, giving her house an ever so settle elegant touch. She turns and spots me, waving her blackened hand with an amorous smile plastered across her face. In some ways she resembles my mother: her sweet humming in the morning, her gorgeous, contagious smiles, and her loving attitude that makes you feel like you were forever protected. I return the beam, and then head to school. I'm dreading every step I take, getting closer to misery.

I knew I wouldn't fit in; I'm different. I'm not the type of girl who enjoys partying or getting drunk until I feel faint. I prefer isolation because I don't trust people easily. There's no need for love in my life. I feel that every time I get close to someone they have to leave me. Heartbreak after heartbreak.

I decided that once I get a chance, I will just sit alone and write in my red diary and pour my secrets out on every page. Most people wonder why a simple diary means so much to me; well, here's the story:

When I was 5 and a month before she passed away, my grandmother gave this diary to me as a Christmas present. She placed it in my infant hands and she whispers, "Whenever you feel like you are breaking down and need to cry for hours, write in here. When you feel like you're drowning and no one can hear your screams for rescue, write in here. Whenever you feel alone or frightened, write in here. This diary will be the memoir of all the difficult paths you have faced in life, and will shape you into the strong young woman you are destined to be." At the time, what she said meant nothing to me, so I just threw the diary into the closet thinking that I could use it for sketches. Nonetheless, when mom died and dad became ill, I searched for hours to find it, and eventually I did pour every bit of my pain into writing; on and on for several hours I would go into the extensive detail of grief and agony that hovered over my soul. It shielded me from entirely breaking down during the many nights of abuse from my father. All in all, all my life is this simple journal. I knew from that day, 5 years ago, this diary would be my safe place—the only thing I could actually turn to. My only hope.

The school setting opened up in front of me: a giant building settled on acres of illuminating green grass and the name 'Thomas Jefferson High' sprung out on a massive billboard. Hundreds of teenagers were rushing in and out, cradling their books and loose-leaf paper flew everywhere with the endless shoving and gossip. It's like I'm on some TV set.

I paced myself towards the main office building, confronting the secretary awaiting my map and school introduction package. A stern old lady with brunette hair in a messy bun and a dress suit way too big for her hips, she shot me a look that could kill. "Definitely don't want to upset her" I noted, and waited patiently while she finished her phone call with an upset parent. I gazed around at the numerous students, some already injured children with nose bleeds and bruises on their heads. I gulped, and my stomach churned so painfully I was fearful that I would puke right on the spot. Steering back toward the face of the secretary lady, I heard her put down the phone and sigh of relief, obviously content that conversation was over. But then she rose a thick eyebrow, and my cheeks grew hot as her eyes examined me like I was a part of some foreign species. I stuttered, wondering if I should just start talking or wait for her to ask me. I decided to just speak up so I could get this over with and get this whole shitty day done with.

Me: Um, excuse me?

I couldn't suppress the quiver in my voice, but she didn't seem to notice. She merely folded her arms.

Secretary: Yes, hi can I help you?
Me: Y-yeah. I'm new here.
Secretary: Alright then. Let me go get you the student guide package.
Me: Thank you.

I was a bit shocked by the bitterness in her tone; clearly she didn't enjoy wasting her time at this rutty school. Then again, what's so bad about a job that lets you sit around all day? My thoughts were interrupted as I heard her heels click against the ground as she approached me holding a sticky note, a pamphlet and a booklet in her hands. I stretch my hand out to grab the materials, eyeing her for a second for a sign of approval.

Muttering a soft "thank you", I head out the office doors, glancing down at my sticky note. "Locker 1603" I repeat the words about a thousand times, passing approximately 1590 lockers. My feet start to throb. ". . . 1598, 1599, 1600, 1601, 1602, and 1603!" Finally I mumbled to myself, referring back to the sticky note for my locker combination.

Normal POV

Demi stood at her locker struggling to get her books out, biting her lip hard in irritation. Her boyfriend, Joe, approaches her, planting a tender kiss on her cheek.

Joe: Hey beautiful, would you like some help?

He chuckled at her causing her roll her eyes, smashing her books into his chest.

Demi: Ha ha, Joseph. Now you're earned the pleasure of carrying my books.

She smirked victoriously. Everything about him gave her butterflies. They had been dating for 1 year now. She slammed the locker door shut and subtly looked over his shoulder when she notices a new girl with long dark brown hair tied back into a sleek ponytail and wearing a very casual outfit. The brunette looked odd and very different in a way, like she had something to hide.

Demi: Hey, Joe. Who's that?
Demi questioned as she nodded her head in the direction of the new girl she was curious about.
Joe: Not sure, probably a new student. You wanna go introduce ourselves?
Demi: I think she'd appreciate it.

Demi gave him a sweet grin as they walked over to the new girl that seemed to catch Demi's attention. She walked up to her, feeling nervous for reasons she was very unsure about. "What if she's rude? Would she reply back to me or just ignore me?" These questions wandered Demi's noggin but she had no time to think, being that it'd be weird for her to just stand in front of her and stare into space. Demi cleared her throat.

Demi: Err, hi! You must be new here. I'm Demi Lovato and this is my boyfriend Joe Jonas.

Selena spun around to face Demi, a look of confusion spread across her innocent face. She stepped back like they were going to mug her.

"Do you need help finding your next class? I'm here if you need anything," Demi said, assuring her of no harm.
Joe: Hey Dem, I'm gonna head to class I'll talk to you later.

Demi gave him a nod, clasping her books from him. He pecked her lips and headed towards his next class. Selena stood there gawking at the ground, unsure of what to say next until she spoke up which made Demi's face light up as she lifted her head back up.

Selena: I-I'm Selena.
Demi: Awe, Selena's such a nice name. So what class do you have next?
Selena: My schedule says English.

Demi could tell she was really shy; she wasn't even looking at her. Just as Demi was about to offer to walk her there, she noticed her best friend Miley running towards her.

Miley: Demi! Demi! I have amaaazing news!!

Demi places the palm of her hand on her forehead in embarrassment of my best friend. She saw shyness play on Selena's face again.

Demi: Yes, Miles can I help you?
Miley squealed as she held up her test, proudly. Perceiving Selena, she gives Demi a look of confusion.

Demi: Oh, Miley, this is Selena, she's new here.
Miley: Hey! Nice to meet you, Selena!
Selena: Hi.

Selena granted her a warm smile then looked back at her fingers.

Demi: Alright well, why don't I walk you to your English class Selena, Miley & I have it with you.
Selena nodded at Demi as she walked in front of her, leading the way to their class with Miley following behind.

[[Interval between classes]]

Logan stood by his locker chatting to his friends, discussing the football game from the previous night.

Logan: 3 touch downs from one player; oh man that was great!
Nick: He legit bulldozed that guy to the floor! Best part by far!

They continued sneering until Logan's eyes caught onto a brunette across the hall.

Logan: Hey Nick, who's she?

Logan budged Nick with his arm causing Nick to look into the direction he was implying.

Nick: I don't know. Some new girl I guess, why do you care?
Logan: Sh-she's beautiful!
Nick: Then what are you standing here for? Go talk to her, man!

Nick said as he pushes his best friend toward Selena. Logan brushes himself off, giving Nick a glare before continuing to walk up to Selena.

Logan: Uhm, hey. I'm Logan.

The young lad nervously scratches the back of his neck insecurely. Selena notices Logan standing there, making his whole body shake with anxiety.

"Selena," the auburn says, ogling him amid suspicion. Logan racks his mind for something impressive and gentlemen like to say.

Logan: So Selena, you're new...
Mentally curses himself for saying such an idiotic line.

Selena: Yeah . . . Uhm, don't take this the wrong way but is there something I can help you with?
Logan: Oh, no. Just wondering needed anything.

Logan began leaning nearer to Selena and her back curves parallel amongst the locker, her heavy breath slowing down. She swallows a lump in her throat and rapidly strides around him, not wanting to get into any drama.

"I-I need to go. Sorry," Selena mutters and dashes down the hallway before Logan could utter another word.

Logan: Selena wait—!

Logan curses himself under his breath for coming on too strong, kicking his foot against the locker when he abruptly discern a diminutive, red diary lying on the tiled floor. The name 'Selena Marie Gomez' is written straight across the front in beautiful calligraphy. He glimpses back up, checking if she's still in sight but doesn't see her. Logan turns his attention back down to the diary, opens the first page and verifies that no one is looking. He flips to the first page and reading, his jaw gradually dropping as he processes the shattered words of Selena's life story.

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