Comments on Nathan Bransford, Author: THE SECRET YEAR Teen Diary Contest Extravaganza!!

Time's up! Thanks so much for entering! Finali...

2010-01-06T16:00:12.930-08:00

Time's up! Thanks so much for entering! Finalists will be announced tomorrow.

Hi Nathan, Longtime reader, first time commenter....

2010-01-06T16:00:01.764-08:00

Hi Nathan,

Longtime reader, first time commenter. Thanks for this contest, it was a great exercise to get into my character's head a bit more. And I'm excited to pick up this book!

Here's my entry:

22 Dec 1941

Things here are bleak, and it’s not just the short days and the freezing weather. Two more families from our building left on a transport this month. I fear we will be next. I’m scared to leave Prague—it’s the only home I’ve ever known, although I barely recognize it now. German soldiers patrol the streets, and with our yellow stars, we stand out painfully. The men have been forced to perform manual labor, including shoveling the snow from the tram tracks and streets, and I worry that papa will be summoned soon. He’s strong, but he’s not used to manual labor, and he doesn’t have a coat warm enough since they took it (as well as his shop!).

However, Chanukah has been the bright spot amongst the gloom. Samuel came over with his parents tonight for dinner. I was nervous to give him the scarf I made, but he loved it and put it on immediately. His chocolate eyes and olive skin looked radiant next to the blue. I didn't know if he would get me anything, but he gave me a wonderful book...a new translation of an American author I've wanted to read, John Steinbeck. But that wasn't the best part! You'll never believe what he wrote inside:

“To my darling Ruth. With love, Samuel.”

Can you believe it? With love! Does that mean he loves me? Oh how I wish this stupid war would end so we could go on with our lives. Hopefully, I will be at Charles University soon studying literature, and then, who knows, maybe I will marry Samuel (eek!), and this will all be just a bad memory.

Always,
Ruth

p.s. How could I forget to mention? I had my first kiss today! Samuel took me for a walk along the river and kissed me on a bench there! It was so romantic. He even asked permission, which was sweet. I’m not sure I know what love feels like, but this sure feels like it!

My entry is in blog form; pardon any formatting fu...

2010-01-06T15:59:42.205-08:00

My entry is in blog form; pardon any formatting funkiness:

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JUXTAPOSITION
Murmurings and curses about the life, loves, and fantasies of Harper Paine...

19 September 2009 @ 10:29 pm

Good Things Come in Threes, Or Some Shit Like That

It’s quiet here in B’s house on the beach. All the party-goers have gone, leaving only the echoes of hushed trysts, passionate arguments, love-making and even orgiastic sex.

I hear the sounds receding, floating on the scents of expensive perfume and even costlier weed. I can’t hear the waves breaking.

Why does she keep the house so shut up and closed off now that the revelers have departed?

There are no fathers snoring. Or mothers soothing vomiting brothers. No house noises in this beachfront luxury-condo.

I don’t miss the noise. Or the chaos.

I don’t miss being invisible.

Because believe me, B sees me. All of me. Every pore and cell and feeling.

Oh how that feels! To be awakened. And taken. And taking.

‘Course B had to guide me, not a lot, but a little.

I was a virgin. And I didn’t even know why. Now I know.

And now, I’m not.

But I do miss someone to talk to. About B. And what I’m feeling. 'Cuz there’s a little weirdness, mixed with guilt.

About who she is. And who I am.

Not something that can be sorted out in an email, or a phone conversation...

Should I f-lock this entry? Screw it. I am who I am. Who I'm becoming.

Kelly. Can’t wait to see you Monday. *kisses*

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: Thoughts rattling around in my head.

Leave a comment

Dear Diary, Today was a totally awesome day. I go...

2010-01-06T15:57:56.233-08:00

Dear Diary,

Today was a totally awesome day. I got an A+ on my biology exam (y'know I'm really starting to think about applying to med school), I scored the winning goal in the regional field hockey final (which totally puts us in the state finals and Coach is thinking of making me CAPTAIN!!!) and Principal Newton said I was the staff favorite for Valedictorian! Cool! (Speech idea: draw comparisons to graduation in third world countries). I just hope these new developments don't take time away from my work with the anti-drug efforts at the church. That's all for now Diary. Better get to bed early. Tomorrow I'm going to clean my room and donate all my materialistic teen belongings to a shelter for the homeless. Love Samantha. Ps - Diary, I have one more exciting piece of news for you about me! All you have to do is turn the page.....(next page) I KNOW YOU READ MY DIARY, MOTHER DEAREST!!!! THANKS TO THAT GODDAM NANNY CAM YOU USED TO SPY ON CONSUELLA WITH!! IF I EVER CATCH YOU GOING THROUGH MY STUFF AGAIN, I WILL TEXT THE ENTIRE PTA ABOUT YOUR SECRET "YOGA" LESSONS WITH THE UPS MAN (I KNOW HOW TO USE THE OLD NANNY CAM TOO!) AND I'LL TELL DAD ABOUT THE VODKA BOTTLE IN YOUR GOLF BAG. THE THOUGHT OF YOUR DNA BEING USED TO MAKE MINE MAKES ME WANT TO PUKE MY GUTS OUT. I WISH YOU HAD NEVER CONCEIVED ME, CARRIED ME OR CARED FOR ME!!! ALL MY LOATHING, LESLIE. PS - AND WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING NAMING ME LESLIE!!!!!

Dear Diary: Our choir director had a family emerg...

2010-01-06T15:57:02.885-08:00

Dear Diary:

Our choir director had a family emergency. Something about an overflowing toilet. He raced out of practice without even asking if I had a ride home. And he knows about Mama.

Everyone left. It was just me and Scott standing there peeking out the glass door watching the snow fall like confetti from heaven. I pressed my forehead up against the cold glass it felt good because on the inside I was burning up like the time I bit into a hot pepper by mistake. I watched for Mama’s red Camaro to come sliding through the parking lot. Part of me hoped she was drunk and passed out on the couch. The other part remembered I was in a church and shouldn’t be having such thoughts. Scott’s foot brushed up against mine. I breathed. That’s when I heard the tires squeal and metal crunching into metal. That’s the moment my life changed. I knew Mama was gone.

Tyler, I spent most of the night outside, but I d...

2010-01-06T15:55:30.627-08:00

Tyler,

I spent most of the night outside, but I didn’t see a single shooting star. I never even looked up. I just sat on the frozen ground, feeling the coldness creep through my jeans. Numb. It’s so different from last spring.

Don’t you remember? In science class, Mr. Coulter told us about the April Lyrids. So, that night, we snuck into your neighbor’s yard, curled up on their giant trampoline, and waited for the meteor shower to begin. They were so beautiful, those brilliant flashes of light streaking through the sky. We spent all night making wishes for the future. It was nearly morning when you whispered, “I wish for Elena to love me forever.” They were the sweetest words in the world, but now they just sound selfish and cruel.

I didn’t see the meteor shower this year. It was dawn before I even looked up. But I watched the stars fade as the pale orange of the sun seeped across the sky. Single rays gradually became a blanket of light, transitioning the dawn to day in an imperceptible moment. Seeing the sun rise, I realized how insignificant I am in the grand scheme of things. My problems are so small, when measured against the problems of all the other stargazers and sun worshipers in the world, and especially so when compared with the sheer vastness of the universe itself. They’re my problems, and only I care.

It’s a new day, but it’s a new day without you. I feel as though I’ve been sucked into the black hole at the center of the Milky Way.

Crushed.

Love forever (as you wished),

Elena

Monday, November 9, 2009 Dear Diary, Today sucke...

2010-01-06T15:54:30.523-08:00

Monday, November 9, 2009

Dear Diary,

Today sucked!

Heather saw me shopping at The Limited this weekend and watched me try on a fuzzy peach wool cable-knit sweater. Today, she waltzes into homeroom wearing the same sweater…and of course, I was wearing mine too. She is SO annoying!!!

Everyone asked us all day whether we planned to dress alike. Our teachers kept telling us we looked like the Bobbsey twins. I didn't know who they were, so I looked it up on Wikipedia when I got home. Unless they think Heather is a tranny, I don't get the analogy. Come to think of it, she is kind of flat-chested…

Anyway, I can't wear the sweater again, so I'm giving it to Goodwill. Mom will kill me if she finds out because she spent $50 on it, but maybe she won’t notice that it's gone. Or maybe I'll ruin it in the laundry and claim temporary insanity.

Damn thing was scratchy anyway.

I just de-friended Heather on Facebook. I am NEVER speaking to her again.

k

My first post didn't show up. Dear Diary, To...

2010-01-06T15:52:23.583-08:00

My first post didn't show up.

Dear Diary,

Today was one of THE weirdest and greatest days of my life. Neiko came over to my house this morning before school, earlier than usual, and told me to get in the passenger seat of the car. I thought it was really weird because I usually drive and it IS my car.

He drove me to this extremely large country house in the middle of nowhere. The house sits in a huge open field that’s over one hundred acres! I mean really, one hundred? It was insane!

Anyway, besides him bringing me to this unusual place, I’ve started to get the butterfly feeling in my stomach every time I’m around him or maybe it feels like knots. I mean come on this guy just randomly started to go to my school this year, and the first day he acts like the bad boy. Following me around, manipulating me into giving him a ride, but, he did sorta save my life. So I guess I did kind of owe him to go on this weird trip. Besides he asked my dad, who I still never see and don’t like too much anymore, and got his permission.

Whatever though, just because I started to get this feeling doesn’t mean that I like him right? He is constantly getting on my nerves, driving me up a wall when he doesn’t listen to me, and definitely is making me angry when he thinks he has some power over me since he’s a guy! Hello? Hasn’t anyone heard of women’s rights? I don’t need any man to tell me what to do or make me do what they want me to. I just really want this whole feeling to go away, because I don’t like him nor do I ever want to.

It’s just when those green eyes look into mine…

Ugh, he is just beautiful, and those muscles! Oh those muscles, yeah… Man I really need to stop, because I swear to you diary I hate Neiko and like I said before, I never want to like him…ever! And I mean that.

Now about this house… You’re not going to believe what happened but supposedly I need some rest and I do feel a little strange, so I’ll get back to you on that tomorrow.

Dear Diary, I can’t believe Kristin was there. ...

2010-01-06T15:52:11.640-08:00

Dear Diary,

I can’t believe Kristin was there. She smiled so pitifully at me when she saw me crying. How could you leave me Mark? My heart would soar when you played your banjo or guitar for me. What could you have possibly seen in me? I am definitely not the prettiest or the most popular girl in school. That was Kristin. And she was at the funeral home to make sure everyone saw her. She talked to your mom and dad like the two of you were still together. I was always the shy one, yet you were able to break my shell. You said you wanted someone quiet. Kristin always wanted to be the life of the party. So why was she there? Was she wanting some attention? How can God expect me to go on? How could he allow me to love someone so completely and then snatch them away? It isn’t fair. I know it’s wrong but right now, I HATE YOU GOD!!! Please, strike me dead. There are so many jerks out there, so many who deserve to die. You didn’t deserve to die. You had a headache. How can you die from a headache? You should have taken me God I wasn’t worthy. Mark made me feel worthy. We talked about getting married when we graduated. You didn’t care that everyone said we were too young for marriage. How would they know? We had been saving our money. You showed me pictures of the house you were building. Our house. Our house… funny, it will never be OUR house. Your uncle said the deed was in both of our names. I could never live there. Let them give it to Kristin. Those are the things she’s interested in. It’s not fair God! I know, my mom would tell me life isn’t fair, but she won’t say anything tonight. She‘s afraid. I told her I wanted to join you. I don’t want to live. I can’t live without you. She’s afraid. I just kept screaming and pounding my head against the wall. I kept thinking if I hit it hard enough maybe I would get one of those killer headaches. It didn’t happen. I got the headache alright but it can’t compare to the heartache. My parents asked the doctor for something to calm me down but he won’t write a prescription. He’s wise. He knows, I don’t want to live! I can’t live! Did I tell you often enough I loved you? Will I still love you twenty years from now? I don’t want to live like this. I can’t live like this. I want to be numb, to feel nothing. I want to die.

This is probably not very compelling, but it was a...

2010-01-06T15:51:07.890-08:00

This is probably not very compelling, but it was a useful exercise for me since I wrote it as if a main character I am developing for my latest project had kept a diary as a teen.

Dear Diary,

Grandmother gave me this diary for Christmas, and Mother insists that I write it in. My life is pretty boring, so I don’t see the point, except that it is easier to go along and write here for a couple days until she forgets than to fight about it.

School started again today after the break. I was invisible as usual, except for when Mrs. Gumble called on me in history class. She insists on using my full name, Gertrude, instead of calling me Trudy like everyone else. You wouldn’t think this would still be funny in January, but everyone still sniggered today. Mrs. Gumble didn’t seem to notice, and I was so embarrassed I stammered through my answer, which just made everyone giggle more. I really hate Mrs. Gumble.

Math class sucked today too, but that wasn’t Mr. Steven’s fault. At least he called me Trudy when he sent me up to the board to do a problem Jenni messed up. It was totally her own fault she couldn’t do it right on the board herself, since the problem was straight from last night’s homework. Maybe if she opened her books at night instead of changing her nail polish to coordinate with the next day’s outfit, she would have a better chance of passing. She only took the class so she could flirt with Kevin and get him to help her with the homework. Too bad she never gets around to doing the homework part with him when he comes over to help. Anyway, when I was walking back from the board, she hissed at me that I am not a “real girl” and “it’s no wonder you can’t get a date Trudy, boys don’t date show-offs.” Huh. I blushed and slunk back into my seat. I’m still trying to think of a good comeback. Why would I want to date a guy who only likes stupid girls anyway? I mean, what would that make me?

Hmm, the only other time I wasn’t invisible today was in English class. But Mrs. D. was cool, she just gave me a pointed look when she caught me reading a book under my desk, staring until I put it away. I didn’t think anyone had noticed until Jenni rolled her eyes at me. I guess reading in class is another strike against my chances to get a date.

I sat by myself at lunch. I mean, there were other kids at the table, cause there isn’t enough room to have empty tables, but I was reading my book again. And, everyone acted as if I wasn't there, so I was invisible again, I guess, which is pretty much the same thing as sitting by myself.

Anyway, this should be enough writing to satisfy Mother for today. By the way dairy, she calls me by my full name too.

Dear Diary, I hate you. Okay, scratch that. ...

2010-01-06T15:51:02.971-08:00

Dear Diary,

I hate you.

Okay, scratch that.

Dr. Moritz says I shouldn’t hate things, because hate just breeds more hate and promotes a negative psyche. Since the accident, my psyche is negative enough without adding a loathing of inanimate objects. So, Diary, I do not hate you. Instead, I:

1. Think this assignment is stupid.

2. Suspect that Mrs. McCready is a demon sent from the depths of hell to torture apathetic seventeen year-olds. (And is too lazy to grade actual papers.)

3. Am nauseated by your flowery pink cover, but you were the first one I saw at the Eagle Store this morning. (Which may or may not be because I was making out with Drew when the first bell rang. Since Melissa caught us last time, he’s moved his surprise tongue attacks to the Fine Arts hall – aka : the end of the Earth. If I get anymore tardies, I’ll end up with another Saturday d-hall.)

But I do not hate you. I'll reserve that emotion for nosy psychiatrists and evil teachers.

Anyway, our topic for today, according to The Demon’s blackboard: What is the most important lesson you learned this year?

I shit you not, Diary. No doubt, she expects us to mention some blather about her meaningful rants – I mean, lessons – about sexism in Shakespeare. Or how going off to college next year has made us grow up.

Oh, Christ - or how New Year’s taught us the value of life.

That’s it, isn’t it? McCready wants us to talk about the days after the funeral, when the cops still pulled us out of class, asking about the party. She wants to hear that we still expect his laugh, that adorable, booming baritone in the back row, when she calls Ellie Horn by her older brother’s name.

She wants to know how sorry I am.

To know that, when I see a particularly heinous mullet at Walmart, I still text his phone, even though his parents finally disconnected it last month. She wants discover that I bike everywhere now. That my Taurus sits rusting in our driveway where the tow-truck dropped it off. She wants to know that I’m messing up Drew’s life too, because he’s the only piece left of Oliver.

Ugh. That’s pathetic. My hands go shaky just writing his name. So, I won’t. Besides, none of that is what I truly learned this year, Diary.

My real lesson, the one I can’t escape?

Life goes on, even after the unthinkable.

-Evie Black, 4th period

OCTOBER 27TH Carter just poked his head out her...

2010-01-06T15:50:36.051-08:00

OCTOBER 27TH

Carter just poked his head out here. When he saw me, he frowned and went back inside. He acts like I’m intentionally trying to torment him. It’s lunchtime and I’ve decided to sit in the courtyard. For some reason, I feel less pathetic out here than when I’m at a table for one in the cafeteria. I realize I’m not fooling anyone, but I it just FEELS better. I can pretend that sitting alone outside on a sunny Charleston day is my choice…not my sentence.

Despite everything that’s happened, I don’t regret my relationship with Carter for a second. How can I regret the best three months of my life just because they’re over? That’s like someone wishing they didn’t take that vacation of a lifetime because eventually they had to come home. Sometimes, you just have to enjoy the ride while it lasts and move on. Besides, I’m better off now. Seriously. Way better.

When I told my cousin, Sara, about this newfound philosophy she didn’t completely agree. “I guess your affair with Carter WAS like a great trip,” she said. “If on the way home from said trip, your plane crashed on a desert island, disfigured you, and you had to spend the rest of the year in complete isolation.” I didn’t find that particularly helpful. I’m trying to stay positive. I knew there was a risk in getting involved with Carter. A calculated risk. Unfortunately, I grossly miscalculated how bad the worse case scenario could really be. I figured that in the end, one of two things would happen: I would end up joining Carter in Loserdom or I would return to my elevated social status without him. Not in my most pessimistic of days did I consider that I could lose everything. (Or that my hair would never be straight again, but that’s a whole different story).

The good news is that it’s almost November and I’ve progressed from being the object of ridicule and scorn here at Charleston Prep to being completely invisible. Andrew no longer taunts me because he’s too preoccupied trying to keep tabs on his new girlfriend. And my former best friends? I think they’ve forgotten about me entirely. Making me feel small and pathetic is no longer worth their energy.

So yeah, it sucks that Carter ran in the other direction when he saw me a few minutes ago, but at least I got a reaction from him. He may not love me anymore. He may even hate me. But I’ll never be invisible to him. That much I know.

NOTE: Dammit! I forgot that blogger won't tak...

2010-01-06T15:48:45.275-08:00

NOTE: Dammit! I forgot that blogger won't take strikethrough html. Or if they do they use some variation on the code that I can't figure out. Gah, out of time! I sincerely apologize for the lack of clarity, but please assume that everything in italics has been crossed out, or perhaps poorly erased:

Dear Mrs. Henderson Diary,

Hi. How are you? I am fine. Sorry I’m getting such a late start writing in you but I just transfered into this class. Poor little notebook, you’ve only got one entry. I bet all the other notebooks make fun of you when we turn these in each week.

This is my third home school this year. In my last school I was in the Advanced English class, but they told me that class here was full but all the teachers were excellent so really, it was the same thing. In my last school we were reading the Merchant of Venice and we wrote essays, not fake diary entries. Mr. F (his real name was is Mr. Ferguson but he let us call him Mr. F) bought me let me keep my AP English study book and I eagerly anticipate taking the Advanced Placement test later this year so I can get a head start on my college career which will be the key to any future success I have in life. I hope that will not be inconvenient for you.

I am going to study computers. It is a promising field and one that will need knowledgable people. Last year one of my fos a friend taught me the basics of html. I had my own website for a while – a real webpage from scratch, not just a facebook thing. I still have most of the code saved but I don’t think I will put the page back up. It was fun, but it isn’t really worth the $20 or $30. It’s not like anyone looked at

I wanted to work for the Apple Store but the manager there said they don’t take minors, which is bullsh but I think he just didn’t like me. So I’m working at Best Buy which turned out just fine anyway. I’m learning a lot and my new foster mo guardian foster mother is willing to drive me out there, which is very nice of her.

I suppose you should know, yes, I am one of those “foster children”. Please feel free to never ever mention this to anyone. Do not refer to this in front of the class. Or give me sympathetic looks or tell me you know what I am going through. The county pays a lot of money to send me to a good therapist with who (whom? Mr. F said I needed to watch out for whoms) I process my emotions. I will let you know if I need additional support. For god’s sake, please don’t try and hug me in front of the class. (This actually happened.) Just treat me like a normal person. That’s all I ask. That and letting me take the AP English test. I am willing to go talk with the principal and Mr. F said he’d send you or her an email if you need it.

Sincerely,
Me.

Dear Diary, He did it! Jake was there today and h...

2010-01-06T15:48:18.768-08:00

Dear Diary,

He did it! Jake was there today and he wore it! It was cool knowing I was the only one who knew why he was wearing his Bruin's jersey. I'm sure he didn't tell anyone because everyone was asking and he just said he was in the mood for it!

He only really looked at me once but I could see he wanted to all day. Well, I could feel it anyway. I tried not to stare but it was hard.

The treehouse is too cold now. I miss it. They're painting it in the spring and I can hardly wait because I hate that sickly vomit beige and you know why don't you?

They should paint it Bruin's orange! Ha!

Jake looks good in the tight jeans. I couldn't see his butt today because the jersey hung too low but he has a nice one. Even Natalie agrees with that. I wonder why she hates him so much. I have to agree with her of course. It'd be stupid not to.

Tomorrow is Tuesday. I wonder what Jake will wear? I'm wearing my periwinkle turtle neck, it's almost blue. I'm thinking Tomorrow I'll know for sure! Cross your fingers!

I'll let you know as soon as I get home! Wish me luck diary!

Rachel

Dear Diary, Just like yesterday, I’m rollin', ...

2010-01-06T15:47:08.203-08:00

Dear Diary,
Just like yesterday, I’m rollin', I’m always rollin'
and struttin'
doin' that walk, that only I do
movin' and shakin' down the street
tippin' my hat to the ladies
high fivin' the grocer man.
spinnin' round the light pole
flipping my candy cig down the storm drain
and then settlin' back on a park bench, taking in the world, and tripping up the small ratty dogs on their glittery leashes,
stickin' it to the man in that laid back, flared out way that has all the guys wishin' they wuz me.
I ain't no one sided personality hack driving on the road of life with only one blinker twinkin'.
I’ve seen the world, and I know what's up and what's down.
I’ve come to a peaceful equilibrium with my inner demons, and no endless supply of Sanford and Son is gonna bury my lust for life let alone my lust for brittle snack foods that make it all worthwhile.
After figuring it all out, I finally fold my paper, shove it into my back pocket, and skate on down to my pad where I sip iced tea with peppermint and watch the late night movie till the sun moved on down the line, leaving me with the long shadows and a host of regrets piled up like ashes around my feet.

Dear Journal , I should be paying attention in cl...

2010-01-06T15:46:22.021-08:00

Dear Journal ,

I should be paying attention in class instead of writing in you. But I'm on a mission--to be subversive and not be noticed. To make journal entries in public places, without being caught. To boldly go where no one has gone before.

And since I'm in all honors classes with a room full of students with the exact same assignment, I might as well take advantage of their desire to get good grades, too.

This whole idea thing is to simulate 1984. Or Anthem. Or Brave New World. One of those Big Brother Is Watching You books they make you read as an impressionable young freshman.

I think it’s also supposed to prove how much we learned last year, but who knows? We get to play the subversives, and report our friends, and act like everyone is out to get us.

Good practice, since it is the honors class.

Right. Like someone would do something like this with a regular class? We’re the only ones nerdy enough to actually do the assignment.

And here’s the proof: I've been thinking, what kind of journal should I write? If I were in a homogeneous society, where nobody could talk about what it's like to feel or to be different, what would I dwell on?

Right. Like that takes any thinking?

Less than 1% of the nation scores as well as I do on tests or better. Defects like that don't change just because the world setting has. I’d be writing about how much it sucks to not fit in. How awful it is that people only like you if they feel superior to you. How maddening it is to have to smile and pretend like I have no clue what’s going on, just so people don’t hate me.

And maybe a little bit of self-loathing, because honestly, it’s my fault for not being normal, isn’t it?

But then, maybe in a system like that it would be a good thing to be intelligent? Geeks rule the world?

Who am I kidding? People don’t change just because the system does. The normal kids will always be the normal kids, and anyone different will always be different.

Whatever. We’re better off that way. Because honestly? Classes with mundanes? Worse than running out of batteries during a test on standard deviations.

Even if some of them might be cute, or fun to date.

Wait, no, Neanderthal is never cute. And definitely not date material.

Especially not for Gifted Geek Girls.

Right. That's it for now.

-Agent 0083 (so totally going to pretend to be a secret agent for this whole assignment )

PS Can Neanderthals be cute? Must research physiological features and conduct survey.

2010-01-06T15:42:06.112-08:00

This comment has been removed by the author.

01/05/10 9:17 pm It’s almost my birthday. Actua...

2010-01-06T15:39:48.967-08:00

01/05/10 9:17 pm

It’s almost my birthday. Actually, I have 11 days before we reach doomsday. I know it’s going to be horrible, like it always is. Never on anyone else’s birthday. Just on mine. I know Mom’s going to watch my every move, silently judging me as I take a slice of cake. That is if she doesn’t come over and tell me I probably shouldn’t be eating cake. “You know, because you want to lose weight and cake won’t help.”

No, Mom. You want me to lose weight and you’re the one who’s not helping.

She doesn’t get that the cake will probably be my only friend at the party. Even the kids who say they’re coming for me won’t actually be there for me. I know she’ll probably say something embarrassing like how I’d like to have them there, even though that’s not the truth. And they’ll know it when I’m in a corner all by myself, shoveling cake into my mouth, and I glare at them for watching me like I’m some kind of freak.

Maybe they’d come for Natasha since she’s the pretty one. Like I never get tired of hearing that. Oh, doesn’t Natasha have the prettiest brown eyes you’ve ever seen? Doesn’t Natasha have the tiniest waist you’ve ever seen? Doesn’t Natasha want to kill me for being the fat sister? The dark spot in her life? The weirdo she has to drag along with her to the mall when Mom feels bad about grabbing the pizza out of my hand before it even reaches my mouth?

Why can’t they just accept me? Why do I have to be the one to give up who I am to make other people happy? Why can’t Mom just try and make me feel comfortable in my body? It’s not like I love being fat. I wish she’d realize that.

Most of all, though, I wish she’d know how bad she makes me feel when she gives me backwards compliments like, “That dress looks better than I thought it would,” or when we went to Aunt Laura’s and she said, “I’m proud of you for eating the salad.” I’ll never forget that day, how crappy I felt afterwards. I wish she’d realize that her “compliments” and her “love” make me cry myself to sleep, how I think about using the twenty minutes I have on Saturdays when she goes to get her nails done to have my last meal of her colorful pills upstairs.

Maybe then she’d love me. Maybe then she’d wish she hadn’t bugged me about taking another roll. But until then, I guess I’ve got to get ready to celebrate my birthday like normal people. Maybe this time I can even crack a smile for her. It gets harder to do that nowadays, but when I think about how happy she looks when she thinks I’m happy, it becomes a little easier.

Dear Future Losers of Brookview High, The world l...

2010-01-06T15:37:40.138-08:00

Dear Future Losers of Brookview High,

The world looks a little brighter when your head’s suspended in a toilet. In between the water swirling around your ears and your silent thanks that nobody’s taken a piss in the bowl this morning, there’s a strange sort of calm that comes over you. Mouth closed. Eyes open. Water whooshing ‘round a porcelain sky. The hell of high school disappears and for a moment, you feel at peace. Because you know, that for those seven seconds, life can’t get any worse.

But then the jerk holding your feet lets you down and you’re gasping for breath and the world comes rushing back. You stare at the bowl, water dripping down your face, wishing you’d been flushed down the pipes and spit out in the James (or wherever piss-water goes). Because the moment your feet touch the ground, your seven seconds of peace are over.

If you’re a loser (and if you’re reading this I guess you are), the best advice I can give you is gain weight. Fast. Forget the dollar menu. Super-size those fries, scarf down all the quarter pounders you can swallow and keep right at it. Because an extra layer of fat is the only defense against the jerk-wads of the world.

Sure, you’ll get the lard-ass jokes. But, take it from me, if you can gain a few pounds-or thirty-do it. I’m cursed with an ultrafast metabolism my mother would kill for which means no matter how much lard I shovel down my throat, my bony ass doesn’t get an inch bigger.

I’ve been stuffed in lockers, trash cans and believe it or not- a tuba case. And that’s not even the worst of it. Did you hear the rumor about the geek who went dumpster diving for his retainer on mystery meat day? Yep, that was me. The total dweeb whose locker was plastered with pictures of the Jonas Brothers? Me again. The dork whose underwear got sent up the flagpole with him in it? You guessed it.

So let me tell you, if you’re as big a loser as I was, plunging head first in a toilet bowl might just be the highlight of your day.

Dear Future Self, Hiding out in my room. Dad's...

2010-01-06T15:36:41.612-08:00

Dear Future Self,
Hiding out in my room. Dad's drunk again. He thinks I can't tell with his goofy smile and the slurred words and his stupid walk. So embarrassing. Tired of pretending I don't know what the fuck is going on, like I'm still seven and I can't hear shit through the walls anymore. Right.
And Isa wonders why I'm so straight edge about this stuff. Like what am I supposed to say? "My dad's a drunk and I don't want to be?" Yeah, like I need more airing of the dirty family laundry after what happened with Nick. Even Mom asked me to keep it on the dl in her own Momly way. "We want to protect Nicky, the other families wouldn't understand." Yeah, they understood. Understood enough to demand that he go to juvey. Shit we are the white trashiest family in this school.
Saw HIM today. He was with Hannah at the mall. It's whatever, I'm not even interested anymore, she can have him. He seemed really cool at Julie’s party but now he’s been such a skeeze that maybe that wasn’t the real him. This is why I don’t date guys in high school, they don’t even know what they’re doing. I’m not going to waste my time on some loser just because all my friends are dating. Even if he does have the most incredible Zac Efron hair I’ve ever seen. Look, you and I both know his hair was perfect in 17 Again. Seriously.
OMG, Dad will not stop knocking on the door. Turning up the radio. Wrote a song yesterday, “Don’t Cry When the Radio’s On.” It’s pretty good:
Don’t cry when the radio’s on
Cause you’ll only drown out the sound
Don’t cry when the radio’s on
Cause you don’t know what it’s like
Anyway, it’s just the chorus, but I think it will be good. I just need to keep writing and get out of this shithole town and then I don’t ever have to see these people again. I won’t have to pick Dad up at the bar at 2 am anymore, or pretend I don’t hear Mom crying in the bathroom, or get the pity stare when people find out I’m Nick’s little sister.
I have to believe that life stops sucking at some point. I have to. Otherwise I’ll go fucking crazy. If I’m not already.

Baby – This is not what your buddies call a “Dear...

2010-01-06T15:36:27.868-08:00

Baby –

This is not what your buddies call a “Dear John” letter.

I still love you. But you’re there and I’m here. I know that sounds lame. The truth usually does when you blurt it out. And you know me, blurt blurt bluuuuuurt. Oh God, did that sound like a burp? I’m not trying to be funny or gross or insensitive. Just forgive me, okay?

Let’s be realistic. If you’d gone to college instead of signing up for hero duty, you’d have hooked up with somebody by now. I’d be the high-school girlfriend crying snotty heartbreak tears.

Or maybe you have hooked up with Private Tomboy, who enlisted cause she likes the odds over there better than here. Shit, I’m such a bitch. And this is the nice version of the letter. I’ve started over like 25 times. I’m not starting over again. From here on, it’s gonna be pure me, blurts and all.

So, how are things in the desert? Are you still seeing mirages and stuff from the heat? I don’t know why you volunteered to go to such a hell hole when you could be drinking beers in a frat house. You could’ve seen me during Christmas vacation and spring break and whenever else your parents would sprung for the $150 air fare. Which would’ve been often. Your Mom misses you just as much as I do. I saw her (your mom) at the mall yesterday. Did she tell you? That guy she saw me with is only a friend. If it turns into anything more than that, it won’t be until I’ve sent this letter. I am not a cheating slut. But you should know that.

This is all your fault anyway. I don’t know why I have to explain myself. You decided to be GI Joe and we’re all supposed to wave the flag. And if something terrible happens, our job will be to choke back tears as we talk about what a great guy you were. Well, that’s bullshit! How dare you risk your life without asking me first? I’m mad at you, baby. Mad, mad, maaaaaaad. Great, now you’re making me cry again. Do you have any freaking idea how many times I’ve gone to bed crying since you’ve been gone???

173. That’s how many. I know you left 184 days ago, but for the past eleven nights I finally went to sleep without feeling like the ceiling was sinking. I met someone who makes me forget to be depressed. We haven’t gone further than that yet. I respect you too much. But I deserve to have a life.

I still love you. But I can’t wait for you.

Just forgive me, okay?

A.

I know from the last letter that you stuffed in th...

2010-01-06T15:35:46.625-08:00

I know from the last letter that you stuffed in this rotten tree that you think your mom is hideous, but, I’m sorry to say, my mom is hands-down way more hideous. The other day she sat me down, plied me with junk food and tried to talk with me about snowboarding, using all these strange words that went out with real fur, in a lame attempt to figure out what is really going on this weekend. I love her, but what an idiot! I guess she’s trying to seem cool, but she came off looking like a total dweeb. All she really knows about is laundry and drowning roasts in the slow cooker, as far as I can tell. I thought for a minute that she may be on to us. Wait! Don’t freak out. She has no flipping clue. Now, are you going to spread the word, or am I? And what do we do if one of us, or both of us, gets busted and goes to jail? I'm too pretty for jail. Did I mention that as I write this note that my house smells like fried fish, and my Dad is drunk and snoring on the couch? Gag. I hope I make it until tomorrow night! Write back with directions.

Cynth

Jan. 6, 2010 God. It wasn’t like I was using drug...

2010-01-06T15:35:28.347-08:00

Jan. 6, 2010

God. It wasn’t like I was using drugs or something. I went to a party. Wow—really scary. Mike is such an unbelievable jerk sometimes. I mean, OK, I wasn’t supposed to be there. Fine. Point taken. Helloooo? I got it. The 411 has reached its destination. But still … he’s yelling. For freaking FIFTEEN MINUTES!! And laying on the guilt because he couldn’t find me and he was all worried. And I’m all, like, I’m sorry, okay? And he just keeps laying into me, louder and meaner, and I’m, like, WTF? I apologized, right? Can’t you give it a rest?!

Because I really don’t care what he thinks. His yelling isn’t going to change anything, it’s not going to bring them back, it’s not going to help either of us deal. All it might do is give him a coronary. And how stupid would that be? I can see the headline: Boy keels over from heart attack while raking little sister over coals. If he did keel over, what would happen then? Whatever would happen, I’m sure it would all be my fault. As usual.

According to Mike, everything’s my fault these days. Like the reason he can’t go to college or join a band or fly airplanes or move to Seattle. Or like why he has to work down at the docks and spend all his money on the mortgage and the electric bill and my tampons. God, he sucks.

TOTALLY SUCKS!

Because you know what, really? If he did keel over, it would be his own dumb fault. And then I’d be alone. All alone. Like Alice in the book. Not the Wonderland book, but the other one … the Alice who does take drugs and then gets herself into trouble. The real kind of trouble where you could get hurt…or die…or end up alone. I don’t really want that, either, so Mike better just pull it together. Now that mom and dad are gone, he’d better not have a heart attack. And he’d better not keel over on me. Or disappear. Or anything.

Or I’ll kill him.

It’s not my fault. I wasn’t the one who got us into this situation. I didn’t make them fight. I didn’t make them get in the car screaming, mad, and then go careening off the side of the road. Mike's coming...

‘Kay, I’m back. I can’t believe it. He actually apologized for yelling so much. He almost cried. He does that a lot now. It makes me feel weird, like I have to comfort him or something. He kept talking about how much pressure he’s under and how I have to help him out and not make things worse by running off. He said we have to work together as a team. So, get this: I'm the one who ended up crying. Stupid me. Mike hugged me and said everything would be okay. I want to believe him. But I don’t.

cshoww ! There is over 600 entries now. And good t...

2010-01-06T15:34:58.654-08:00

cshoww ! There is over 600 entries now. And good thing for the last minute or nothing would get done. Bad habit. I have read a lot of them. Love the use of humor that EB wrote and Wayne K was funny as well.

1/6/10

My Pappy is actually letting me go to the Wichita mall thing with Jax this Saturday ! His brothers band is gonna be allowed to play there for one hour. Jax said his Daddy even let him take the truck for the day. Were gonna pick up Harley and Skip too.
Its gonna be soooo kewl.

Maybe Pappy just tryin to make me feel better I had to pick up Ma off the floor again yesterday. She been drinkin again. Every time he has to go to town. He try locking the booze in the trunk and taking the key, and even her credit card. Ol Buck, he just give her what she wants at the store, let her pay later. Pappy real mad at him. Its why I never got to be real friends with Stacy cause I was too young to understand the first time I found her on the floor. She kept saying something about 33 sheets, I ran to Stacys house and her Gran come over, tell me she is fine, just needed some sleep, but then she wouldnt let me play with Stacy after that.

Harley and me are gonna go get some kewl new cloths to wear when we get there too. I have enough money now, we can change in the dressing room there. I want to get something really cute, maybe something blue, Jax fav color is blue. I get to sit right next to him like last week we took the truck to Walmart with his brothers. He kinda played with my hair that day when he was driving and had his arm on the back of the seat !

Finally the end of the holidays. Just one more big dinner tonight for Twelfth Night. Ma aint drank today, so I know we will have Aunt Clara and Uncle Jo over, maybe that new family from church. Ma always hides a dime in one of the desserts, whoever gets it will be lucky for the year. Ha ! I got it once when I was seven.

My parents drank themselves crazy again. It freak...

2010-01-06T15:34:45.286-08:00

My parents drank themselves crazy again. It freaked out my little brother Brian so much this time that I put him in bed with me under the covers with the ipod and headphones. After a few minutes, he forgot all about it and was in another world. Can’t say the same for myself, I’m still here and I can hear my mom crying and yelling at my dad. Any minute and they’ll start throwing things. Same old thing, nothing new.
I hope the batteries last in the flashlight so I can at least keep writing because I turned off the bedroom light before Brian and I got into bed. I always hope if they don’t see us or hear us, they might forget we’re in here.
Even though we’re under the covers, I can’t stop shivering, but I’m not really cold. The banging has started. Sometimes I can feel each bang in my chest. I always wonder if one is my mom hitting the wall or if one of my parents threw something. The worst is my mom’s screams. The screams usually make my heart stop and take my breath away until I hear her voice again and I know that she’s okay.
Brian is sucking his thumb right now. He hasn’t done that since he was two years old. I just wrapped the sheet and blanket tighter around him and tucked them under on the other side. I don’t want Brian to think I’m scared so I hugged him. I can hear muffled voices coming from down stairs and I hope this means it’s almost over.
OMG, it’s not over. I can’t help but jump with some sounds and I don’t want to scare Brian but I just can’t help it. It makes me jump. I wish I had another set of headphones. It really doesn’t matter, even if I couldn’t hear it, I know I’d still feel it.
I hate to cry. I hope Brian is not too scared this time. Sometimes it’s hard to get him to talk the next day.
I hate to cry. Why are girls such crybabies?
Tomorrow at school is a test. I can try to think about that. Atoms, Elements, and Ions. The Periodic Table. Chemical Bon…wait… What was that? OMG, …now it’s so quiet. I have to listen…what happened? Was that a gunshot? Why don’t I hear anything? It’s too quiet.
Please…please forget we’re here.
I should hear something…really. It’s quiet but I think I hear slow footsteps on the stairs.
I have to turn off the flashlight…