"Stupid, stupid, stupid journal."
Um, yeah. Great, Dad. Thanks a lot. You gave me this journal for Christmas.
This is such a touching moment.
I think I need a tissue.
DAD, I'M A GUY, AND I'M SIXTEEN. WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU? WHAT COULD HAVE POSSESSED YOU TO GIVE ME A THING LIKE A JOURNAL FOR CHRISTMAS? HOW ABOUT COMING HOME FOR AWHILE, HUH? MAYBE YOU'VE FORGOTTEN THAT I HATE JOURNALS?
OR THAT I HATE YOU?
I'm not going to write in this stupid journal, I'm going to burn it. I can't believe my father gave this to me. He sent some other stuff, too, and a letter, but he's not even coming home for Christmas. In fact, I'll be surprised if he's back before the New Year.
12:15 in the morning
Merry Christmas, you stupid piece of trash. I've decided not to burn you because you're from my father. But don't expect me to start spilling my secrets to you or getting all emotional like a freaking girl. I'm still mad at my dad.
The only reason I'm writing in here now is because it's so boring around this stupid house. I can't get to sleep, I just stare up at the ceiling, waiting for morning to come, I guess. I wish I knew Gerard's home address so I could have someone to talk to. Besides this stupid journal, of course.
Mom had the cook make an enormous traditional breakfast with the whole deal- eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, muffins, waffles, blueberry tarts, and on and on. I took one look at it and said, "Did you invite the whole neighborhood to breakfast?"
And she answered, "Certainly not. Just your Aunt Olivia and Uncle Martin. The others won't be over until at least eleven. Now sit down and eat."
I wasn't very hungry, so I didn't eat much, and Mom didn't force me to.
I wonder what Gerard's doing today. He said something in his last letter about how his holidays are going to suck, but I think that it's just Gerard being himself. He's sort of depressed. I'm trying to be friends with him because I really think he's really, really cool. But he absolutely refuses to be friendly, most of the time.
Or maybe that's just Gerard being himself again? How am I supposed to know? I guess it doesn't matter all that much… I'm not even going to meet him. Ever.
But I'm not going to explain the reason to you because you're nothing but a book. I'm only writing because I'm bored and there's no one else to talk to. It's none of your business what I tell Gerard and what I don't. I just want to be friends with him, that's all. I really do.
Stupid, stupid, stupid journal.
Hey Crazies! I've been slacking hardcore the past two months, but I did get a side project done, Chloe, a one-shot for now at least. I hope you guys enjoy it. c:
Rates and reviews make Sam smile!
Chloe - http://www.ficwad.com/story/204452