So, um, hey Fictioners. I don't know what that was or why I just put that, but I'm going to leave it. So, this is a new story I want to start. It was sorta, kinda inspired by both Dear Diary and The Perks of Being a Wallflower. If you haven't read either, I seriously will shun you because they are both amazing stories. Dear Diary is here on PimD, but The Perks of Being a Wallflower was made into a movie, so if you've seen it, I suppose I won't shun you. Also, the ideas for the story are mine, however the format and the first two lines are probably either very similar or exactly alike the format in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I'm not sure, but if so, I am not trying to take any ideas, or take anyone's story. It is merely and accident and I apologize, but honestly, I won't change it because it starts like that, so it will continue like that. So, enough of my ramblings and here is my first letter or chapter, whichever you want to call it. Also, a fair warning: This story contains drug and alcohol mentions and use. It also may contain abuse. ____________________ July 31, 2010 Dear Friend (Hopefully), I don’t know if you even know me personally. But if you do, don’t read this. This is for someone who doesn’t. So, if you got this and you know me, please send it back, don’t read it. You should know me enough, if you do, that if you don’t do as I’ve asked nicely, and I find out, there will be pain in your future. If you don’t, please continue reading, it’ll be nice to know that I’m telling someone my problems since I can’t tell anyone else. Where do I even begin? Where I began? My childhood, perhaps? Well, I suppose I can start with my name, as I won’t be signing this since I don’t know you and if I should sign “Love” or “Sincerely” because this isn’t a good story. Not my life, anyway. It’s pretty bad, so I don’t even know if you want to listen to me ramble about it or cry over it. A fair warning, it’s not pretty. My name is very strange, since I’m going to start with that. It’s Ah. Ah means normal, and that’s what my mom wants me to be, normal. Ah Lie, that’s my name, first and middle, not my last, and it, if you say it fast enough, sounds like Ali or ally. I don’t want you to find me and get to know me because it will be easier to tell you about my life as it happens, and as I remember. It’ll be easier, I guess. I’m not sure because I’ve never had a diary or someone to tell any of my life to. So, I’ll just figure it out as I go along the boring and tragic motions of my life. I’m an aspiring actress, star in every play production my school has put it on, but my mother thinks it’s a waste of time. Well, one side of my mother. My mother has DID whist I am bipolar. My family is full of mentally messed up people. My mother has a mean side and a kind side, which I see far less of compared to the mean side. The mean side supposedly only happens around me, but I don’t have any idea why. Mom drinks, does drugs, you name it, she does it. And that doesn’t help me at all. My dad stepped out on us a while back. He said he couldn’t take my mother’s switches. Well, he actually said, “I can’t take this shit anymore! I’m fucking leaving!” He was a really great dad, but when DID likes to step in, he isn’t very happy. Well, wasn’t. He left two years ago. I’m fifteen, almost sixteen. At least I had him for the first important years of my life. He promised he would come back or that he would contact me some day. Hopefully before my wedding, if I ever get one. I’m not really happy with my life. I never have. My mother is too much to handle, I don’t have my dad, and I have “friends” but, it isn’t enough, you know? I feel like my mother doesn’t love me, that my dad did but left, and my “friends” aren’t as kind as I thought they would be. They pick on me because I’m the small, quiet girl of the group that doesn’t have the guts to actually stand up for myself. So, they think it’s fun to pick on me. Well, did since I’m moving. I’m not sure what they’ll be like at my new school or my new town. I know it’s not much for my first letter to you, but it’s just something to get me started. Possibly I’ll write more when I get moved in. I have a few weeks before school starts, so I’ll have to get settled in and whatnot. I’m not sure when I’ll write again, but I will. Promise. ____________________ So, for one, I hope the BB codes don't fail. Second, I know it's short, but it's just a start. And this isn't, hopefully, going to turn into one of my romances. This is purely teen fiction and nothing more for as far as I have in mind. If romance does so happen to wedge it's way into the story, sorry in advanced. I really don't mean for any romance to be in this story for the main character, unlike every other story I've wrote. Sorry, rambling. ~Shana Alana
Short update, but still an update. ____________________ August 11, 2010 Dear Friend, It’s been an okay week and some days. I’ve been in a good mood for the most part. My mother has been out a lot in the past few days, so I don’t see her much. The park is across the street and the city pool in in perfect view. I stole a bit of my mother’s money, which I’m really not proud of at all, and bought a simple swimsuit so I could go to the pool and look like I’ve been around all my life. But the only thing I really did was rest my feet in the water, watching everyone else have a good time as they knew each other. Only once did I make contact with someone. It was a girl and guy. The guy accidently nudged me and I almost fell into the pool. Like I said in my last letter, I’m small, and by that I mean I’m lightweight, short, and well, small. When I had finally managed to balance myself, the guy apologized and the girl only sent me a small, almost forced, smile. That was it. They looked to be either juniors or seniors. I’m not sure, but what do I care? The girl either didn’t like me by looking at me or was like me, a very depressed girl. My mother comes home late at night, loudly shushing whoever she continues to bring over. I think she drunk every night. Either that or high and both aren’t very good for me. They just make her angrier every time. But every night, I continue to hear a gruff voice either talking loudly or laughing. I really hope it isn’t another one of my mother “friends” that like to stop by every night. Our new house isn’t very large or grand. Really, it’s tiny and very worn down. There are two levels. I live on the top while my mother lives on bottom. I have a sort of balcony with stairs to the bottom so I can leave without seeing my mother. It’s helpful. But I always leave a note on my door so she knows where to find me since the last time I went out without telling her where I’m going, I got beat and she threw a few vases at me. It wasn’t pretty. I went to the pool today but hardly anyone was there, so I finally went in the water. But once I did, suddenly there was a stampede of people trying to get in the pool and I just got out, resting my feet in the water as always with my towel around me, watching everyone have fun. It was very boring. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten in the water. But, as always, I wasn’t noticed. Again, it isn’t much. Just a beginning to my letters. School starts in a week or so, so I’ll have something to write about then. I’m not sure how it’s going to go since I’m a junior. I’m turning sixteen in a couple days, so there’s something else to talk about. There will be more to talk about next time I write, but there isn’t much right now. Once school starts, I’ll write again. ____________________ Short, but it's still a bit of a start. The next update will be longer and more detailed than this one and the last one. The story is just getting started, so look forward to the next update. ~Shana Alana