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Melinda's Diary

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FC: Melinda 's Diary

1: My mom gave me this journal for Christmas last year. I tossed it in my closet. Diaries are for little kids. I rediscovered it as I was sitting in my closet yesterday. I know it's weird, but I like the silence. Anyway, I found it, and I thought that maybe I should try to write. Ever since the incident, it's hard for me to formulate words and sentences. Maybe writing them down will help. I think that's what a therapist would say, anyway. I've decided that I'll write something every week.

2: School is starting in a week. High school. I’m not exactly looking forward to it. I know that I should try to reconnect with my friends or something, but I can't. I just can't. They already hate me. I’m scared to face them. I need new clothes, too. My mom keep telling me to go to the store with her, but I say no. I think I’m going to spend this last week watching bad car - toons and sleeping.

3: Tomorrow is my first day of high school. I’m not looking forward to it as much as I used to. Now, I wish I could just stay home. My mom would never let me miss the first day of school, unfortunately. I guess I'll just have to get through it. What's one day in the grand scheme of things? Two semesters a year, for four years, and I’m worried about one day? It can't stink much more than any other day.

4: It turns out that the first day of school can stink a lot more than I even expected. I don't belong anywhere. It's really pathetic. I know that I saw this part coming, but it still feels weird. Most of my classes suck. The only class I think I'm going to like is art. Mr. Freeman seems alright. I wish I had chosen a different word for my project, though. "Trees" is a boring topic. Too easy. I've been drawing trees since I was little. I guess I can learn different styles and stuff. Like today, when I tried working with clay. At least that'll make it a little interesting.

5: Well, I'm not doing a very good job of writing something every week. I wish I could say that I'm busy with homework. I can't say that, because I haven't been doing it. My only excuse for not writing is that I keep forgetting. Either that, or I can't think of anything to say. Stuff happens, but most of it I'd rather forget, anyway. I feel guilty. I know that writing stuff down probably does help; I just can't bring myself to do it often. I knew when I made the decision to write every week that it probably wasn't going to happen. It was just wishful thinking.

6: A copy of one of my art project attempts

7: Heather took this picture when I wasn't looking. She insisted that I have it. She also gave me the fancy scrapbooking tape, and the purple pen.

8: I went to Heather's house today. It was an interesting experience. I used to be just like her. Ambitious and driven. Now, I just don't care anymore. I don't care about being popular, and I really don't care about joining stupid clubs. I should probably start thinking about those things, so Heather doesn't ditch me for better friends. It's not like we're really friends, though, are we? We're both each others’ accessory. Being with each other is only one step above being alone. It's only a matter of time.

9: After the failed Thanksgiving dinner, I started thinking about Ariel. She wasn't the best dog. I haven't thought about her in years, but suddenly I miss her. I remember watching movies as a kid about loyal dogs, one who would never leave their owner. I'd begged for months to get a puppy, and when I finally got a little beagle I was thrilled. I loved her so much, even though she peed in the house all the time. It's too bad that she died after only two years. I wish she was here now.

10: David Petrakis is my hero. He stood up to Mr. Neck when he closed a class debate that wasn't going his way. Now, thanks the Petrakis family lawyer, there's a video camera in the back of the class, in case of any “future violations.” David is a nice guy. Smart, too. He even has the potential to be cute, once the braces are off. Ninth grade is just a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of his life. I definitely don't want to get on his bad side. I'm his lab partner in biology, so I'll try not to be too much of an annoyance.

11: Mr. Neck is ... well, a pain in the neck. I got a D on my suffragette report. Which was disappointing, to say the least. I worked really hard on that. Oh, well. I owe David for helping me so much on my presentation. I couldn't have done it without him. I'm kind of proud of myself, even though I pretty much failed. I haven't tried so hard on anything in a long time. I know that my report was good, even if stupid Mr. Neck gave me a bad grade. The D is better than the F I could've gotten.

12: Mr. Freeman drove me home yesterday. He told me a lot about art. “Art without emotion is like chocolate cake without sugar.” That's what he said. He must be right. Most of the stuff I've done so far sucks. I'm just not sure what I'm supposed to feel. Hate? Rage? Guilt? I don't know. I don't feel any of that.

13: My mom finally dragged me to the store today. As it turns out, I'm a size ten. Everything I own is an eight. Which sucks. Mom took me to Effert’s - probably the least fashionable store ever. Not that it matters much. I tried on some jeans, and ended up getting one pair that was way too big. Exactly what I was looking for. It was actually kind of hard to admit to myself that I'm a size ten now. It seems huge. I wish that was one of the things I stopped caring about, but I guess it's not. Maybe that's a good sign. Another step towards normalcy.

14: Just an example of the utter crap my mom tries to sell at Effert's.

15: And this a picture of Ariel, soon after we got her.

16: Something interesting happened last night. I was watching TV and eating a sandwich, when my dad came in and changed the channel to the news. I nearly choked on my sandwich when I got a good glimpse of the footage. There were the Merryweather High Cheerleaders, shaking their stingers provocatively to the “Hornet Hustle.” I guess the TV sports guy thought it was cute or something. I don't think the PTA will be very happy about it. Maybe they'll try to change our mascot again. I wouldn't be surprised if they did. Anyway, I know this will be the talk of the school tomorrow. Maybe it'll be nice to be in the know for once.

17: Once again, I've been slacking. I haven't written a single sentence in this journal in a long, long time. My grades have been slipping, too. My last report card was the worst one yet. I have a feeling that my next one won't be very great, either. Good news, though! Rachel finally knows the truth about what happened all that time ago. The whole school does, actually. I'm suddenly very popular. I don't mind the attention as much as I thought I would. I don't have very high expectations for my newfound friendship with Rachel. I don't think I can ever go back to being best friends with her. Despite that, the fact that she doesn't hate me anymore helps a lot.

18: It's funny how I couldn't talk about what happened with anyone until yesterday- the very last day of school. And it was Mr. Freeman, of all people. I was surprised how good it felt. Almost like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. I'm not okay yet. Not by a long shot. But I'm getting better. I will heal, and I'll get over it. I can move on now.

19: I decided to finally call Rachel today. She left me a message a week ago. Until today, I've been too nervous to call her back. I'm not sure what I was worried about, exactly. I mean, it was kind of awkward. But it was worth it. She invited me to the mall this weekend. I'm shocked at how excited I am; I can't wait. Ivy will be there, too. I guess I just have a good feeling about this.

22: In this project, I tried my best to imitate the style of the author in the novel Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson. This included the intentionally short sentences and fragments. I also attempted to stay in character and discuss most important events throughout the book. Not all of the entries are based on events that were described in detail, however. Some are pure speculation based on vague information provided in the novel. For example, Melinda's pet beagle Ariel was only briefly mentioned, and I elaborated based on my own musings. I just thought it might be important to include this information within the assignment. -Rachael Dewey

23: Photo Citations

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  • By: Rachael D.
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  • Title: Melinda's Diary
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