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- Joined
- Dec 21, 2009
Dear Diary,
Another A, another proud teacher. Why is it that I'm not feeling like it's worth anything? I mean sure, I'm going to the college of first choice, but at what cost? Today, I saw Amy with her new boyfriend. She changed so much since she became friends with him and the 'cool' kids. When I smiled at her, she smiled back and walked away. I don't get it. Is there really something wrong with me? It's not like I'm bad looking or boring, sure I'm no prom queen, but why do I feel so different?
If only something could change. I wish I could get that experience everyone else seems to be getting. But it's not possible. Hell, I doubt I could become like them even if I tried. Maybe a miracle would help. In all those books, girls like me have miracles. I'm sure I'm entitled to one as well.
Tomorrow, I'll try again, change the way things are.
---------------
On the promising note, the brief diary entry ended, the small book quickly hidden under the bed. Its owner soon fell asleep, waking up to the beeping sound of her alarm clock. Quickly getting up, Quinn ran to the bathroom to take a shower, preparing for school. Studying herself in the mirror, she attached her long brown hair into a loose ponytail, applying a light layer of lip gloss. She then pulled on her square glasses, a soft sigh escaping her plump lips. Her face was beautiful when the glasses were off yet she didn't seem to realize it. The glasses did little good to her large emerald eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes that went unnoticed by everyone.
Walking up to her wardrobe, she hesitated before pulling on a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt with a pair of sneakers. She wasn't too thin or too overweight, her breasts weren't big and the rest of her was just that - pretty but too average for anyone to notice.
The eighteen years old girl hurried downstairs and following a quick breakfast drove to school. Once again, the diary entry proved to be filled with false hoped. "Hey Quinn," a girl smiled at her, receiving a brief nod, a blush covering Quinn's lightly tanned skin. "Hey," she mumbled, her voice low and sultry. She then hastily moved on, realizing that she had no idea what else to tell the classmate.
Soon enough, she reached the classroom and took her usual seat at the front of the room, her books set up in front of her about five minutes before the bell rang.
Another A, another proud teacher. Why is it that I'm not feeling like it's worth anything? I mean sure, I'm going to the college of first choice, but at what cost? Today, I saw Amy with her new boyfriend. She changed so much since she became friends with him and the 'cool' kids. When I smiled at her, she smiled back and walked away. I don't get it. Is there really something wrong with me? It's not like I'm bad looking or boring, sure I'm no prom queen, but why do I feel so different?
If only something could change. I wish I could get that experience everyone else seems to be getting. But it's not possible. Hell, I doubt I could become like them even if I tried. Maybe a miracle would help. In all those books, girls like me have miracles. I'm sure I'm entitled to one as well.
Tomorrow, I'll try again, change the way things are.
---------------
On the promising note, the brief diary entry ended, the small book quickly hidden under the bed. Its owner soon fell asleep, waking up to the beeping sound of her alarm clock. Quickly getting up, Quinn ran to the bathroom to take a shower, preparing for school. Studying herself in the mirror, she attached her long brown hair into a loose ponytail, applying a light layer of lip gloss. She then pulled on her square glasses, a soft sigh escaping her plump lips. Her face was beautiful when the glasses were off yet she didn't seem to realize it. The glasses did little good to her large emerald eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes that went unnoticed by everyone.
Walking up to her wardrobe, she hesitated before pulling on a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt with a pair of sneakers. She wasn't too thin or too overweight, her breasts weren't big and the rest of her was just that - pretty but too average for anyone to notice.
The eighteen years old girl hurried downstairs and following a quick breakfast drove to school. Once again, the diary entry proved to be filled with false hoped. "Hey Quinn," a girl smiled at her, receiving a brief nod, a blush covering Quinn's lightly tanned skin. "Hey," she mumbled, her voice low and sultry. She then hastily moved on, realizing that she had no idea what else to tell the classmate.
Soon enough, she reached the classroom and took her usual seat at the front of the room, her books set up in front of her about five minutes before the bell rang.