Dear Diary.

Completely weird thing. Review what you thought!

Dear diary:
I hate you. I can not believe that I have to do this, but here I am. The doctor says that this will help me ”cope with what happened.” I do not want to remember what happened. I know that whatever did happen is not going to change no matter what. Why should I have to write feelings down in this book? I am so done with this thing.


Dear Diary:
I hate my mom. She is checking to see if I am writing in you now. I have to actually do the work now. Ugh. I still refuse to talk about feelings though. Let’s just write some random stuff.

Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah


Even writing this is more boring than actually writing. I give up.


Dear Diary:
I guess I will try this thing. I will write about what happened today. Today, school was awful. I failed my math test and will have to get a tutor. I hope she is hot. That would be good. Also, my friend totally abandoned me today. He said I was acting weird. He got really emotional and starting crying and everything. Then, he stopped talking to me. Why would he leave like that? He must be insane to cry over me. Who does that? I'm probably better off without him. So that was school. Practice today was pretty good. Coach only yelled once at a newbie today. That man scares me a lot. Diary, why do guys have to hide their feelings? Why do I have to wear a mask to fit in? Why can’t we all just be honest with each other? Diary, I am tired of hiding who I am. But how am I going to show everyone the real me if I don’t even know the real me?


Dear Diary:
I must find out who I am. To start out, let me tell you what I know. This summer there was an accident. I had severe brain damage and also had broken my left arm. I remember being at the house when it happened. That is all I know. I know I am all better know, but I still have headaches. My parents are not helpful for finding out what happened. My dad left a long time ago, and my mom wants to protect me from the truth. They are going to be no help to me at all. Looking at paper files is just as helpful. My mom has hidden all of them from me, so I have nothing to work with but my broken mind. Some things trigger memories. One time I was eating at the beach when I remembered I went to the beach the weekend before what happened. Small things like that excite me, knowing that their is still hope for me. You, Diary, are the only thing I can talk to. I must be insane; I am sharing feelings to a book. I must start hiding you. I can not let anyone see this. I must start trying to trigger memories now more than ever if I am going to remember what happened.


Dear Diary:
Woah. I went to the beach today to try to get memories, and they came. I was at the beach with two of my friends. We never actually got in the water, just hung out on the sand. We got ice cream there and then went home. This might not seem like a lot, but it was huge to me. These small details are part of a life I forgot. Now one of those friends will not talk to me. The other friend I have tried to talk to before. She feels bad for me, which is awful. I am no longer her friend, only someone to pity. I hate that people treat me differently. At least in practice I can do something I am good at without getting the pity vote. You are either good or bad, despite your background. I hope to have more memories soon.


Dear Diary:
Finding memories is hard. For the past couple weeks I have been going to places, eating food, and trying to trigger memories. None of it was working. To avoid not writing in here, I will tell you about my day. My friend who had been ignoring me died this weekend. How strange. He had stabbed himself in the heart. I feel bad for him. Why would he do that? He always was so happy and carefree. I guess I just missed the signs. I am so sorry that this happened. The silver lining for this is that we got out of school Monday because of it. I spent the rest of the day away from my house. I did not want to spend more time with my mom then I had to. I went to a burger place and then to the movies. I had a normal day, and it was amazing. I didn't get stared at and no one whispered about me behind my back. They had no idea what I had gone through. The movie transported me from my life into someone else’s. The movie was a terrible chic flick, but it had a happy ending. During the movie, I remembered something. I was reading when the accident happened. I have no clue what happened, but I was reading a book. I can’t remember what book it was. I rarely go to the library, so this revelation took me by surprise. The moment I was not looking for a memory I found one. Maybe the key to unlocking my past is to live life as normal and let it happen naturally. I am me, no matter what happens anyways.


Dear Diary:
How are you, Diary? I know that you are listening. You were the one that caused the ”Accident.” You possessed me just like you did my other friend and tried to kill me. It was because of what I was reading that day. I lied to you, Diary. I know that I was reading how to perform an exorcism. You were inside that book. You wreck lives for fun, Diary. The best part of this is that your demise was your own fault. If you didn't kill my friend then I would never have gone to the movies and found out. But now, I have the book. I burn you, Diary. I know you can smell smell the smoke already. Prepare to die.


Dear Logan:
Do not kill me. I am only trying to help you. That evil spirit is give a long time ago. It is your father, Peter. I know that for your forth birthday you hot a toy plane, which you named Air. Your mom is not who she used to be. About three years ago your mom started to act weird. I could tell she was fighting the evil. One day, she tried to kill me. She used a book to trap me in a blank journal. Then she tried to kill you. I tried to save you. You had seen Mom’s exorcism book and wanted to know how to do it. Maybe you knew Mom was evil. Her spirit inside her came out and attacked you. I could do nothing against it. Once it was all over I healed you. I implanted in your head a fake hospital visit and told you to write in the journal. I do take the blame for what happened to your friend. I made you more likable when your brain was damaged when I was healing it. I changed you so that you were more popular. I knew that some of your old friends had to go if you were going to have a good life. He was going to do it anyway. I am sorry for that. I got carried away. Please don’t hurt me.

Do not open the door Logan. Do not. Don’t listen to the lies she is saying. You hated her. Why are you even still listening to her? She is evil and will finish what she has started.
No.

Don’t open the door.




Dear Peter: I am sorry, dear husband. Some of us are just more powerful than you.