Dear diary.
Wow what a cheesy start to a diary entry! I don't understand how a diary is supposed to work, there doesn't seem to be much point. I guess it is best to begin as to why I have to write here anyway.
I have been having many so called, misunderstandings at school. And after a lot of parent teacher meetings they have decided to send me to a counsellor.
There I met this man named Dr Fey (weird name I know).
He said that I needed to find a way of expressing my feelings. That is where this diary comes in. He explained that in-order to get rid of my socialophobia (afraid of social confrontation) I have to discover more about my own feelings.
Now that's done. Hello my name is Janet Williams. I am 15 years old and I hate people, seriously there are very few people I can actually talk to and tolerate.Hence why I was originally sent to a counsellor against my will. I have three friends. Emilia, Clarence and Amanda.
All of us are known through out our school as the 'rat pack'. The lowest, most pathetic, socially impaired rejects that have ever walked on planet Earth. Charming!
Not bothered to write any more. Write a new entry tomorrow I guess. From Janet.
(Still a stupid idea).
Wow what a cheesy start to a diary entry! I don't understand how a diary is supposed to work, there doesn't seem to be much point. I guess it is best to begin as to why I have to write here anyway.
I have been having many so called, misunderstandings at school. And after a lot of parent teacher meetings they have decided to send me to a counsellor.
There I met this man named Dr Fey (weird name I know).
He said that I needed to find a way of expressing my feelings. That is where this diary comes in. He explained that in-order to get rid of my socialophobia (afraid of social confrontation) I have to discover more about my own feelings.
Now that's done. Hello my name is Janet Williams. I am 15 years old and I hate people, seriously there are very few people I can actually talk to and tolerate.Hence why I was originally sent to a counsellor against my will. I have three friends. Emilia, Clarence and Amanda.
All of us are known through out our school as the 'rat pack'. The lowest, most pathetic, socially impaired rejects that have ever walked on planet Earth. Charming!
Not bothered to write any more. Write a new entry tomorrow I guess. From Janet.
(Still a stupid idea).
Introduction
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that you could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story or movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, or feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as you probably know. Imaginary friends can be anything you want them to be. An animal, a creature you made up, a monster, or just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that you could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story or movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, or feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as you probably know. Imaginary friends can be anything you want them to be. An animal, a creature you made up, a monster, or just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...
Coming soon, I promise. :):):):):)::):))::):)):):):):):):):):):):)):):):):)::)):):):):):):)::):):)):):):):):):):):):)):):)::))::):):))::):):):):)):)::):))))))))))))))):):):):):):)):):):):):):)::)):):):):)::)):):):::):)):):):):))::):):):)):XPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXXPXPXPXPPXXP:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D:D:D::D:DD::DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
It was the next day. I got dressed nervously, had Bruno thought I was a helper? I put on a blue shirt that said "Do I Look Like I Care?" and skinny jeans. I ran outside to look for the bus, it wasn't there. I waited and waited, but it never came! I ran to school. I finally got to school no one was in the halls. I realized everyone was in class. I wrote a fake note in cursive the best I could. When I walked into class I gave the teacher the note. She read happily. Not looking angry at all, she said "Oh! I didn't give you a note. It was saying the bus driver was sick and there were no subs availble. Sorry!" I replied with " It's fine"