CHAPTER ONE

Friday 23 April

I hate my parents. They never listen to me. They're so wound up in their own stupid little lives that they ignore me completely. And I'm SO sick of them telling me how I should live my life. "Go out and suck out some souls, Angela!" "You should be practising your Kissing rather than reading that magazine!" "Blah blah blah blah blah!"

Anyway, I'm sick of being a Dementor. I hate the negative connotations. Everyone looks at you as if you're really evil. And those righteous little wizard types make me sick! "Oooooh Dementors, foul slimy Azkaban-guards, SCREECH, save me save me EXPECTO PATRONUM!" I don't think they can possibly realise how painful that horrible incantation is to us. Waltzing around, waving their ridiculous little sticks, acting as if the whole world belonged to them... I think I like Muggles better, and that's saying something.

Seriously, there's this stereotype against Dementors that is really absurd. We're just LIVING, excuse us. Haven't we got just as much a right to consume as the next wizard?

Saturday 24 April

Today I went to Miranda's house. We hung out and listened to music. It was actually a lot of fun. We even got out her old Barbies and gave them makeovers. There's something about doing childish things that makes anyone, even a teenage Dementor, feel a lot better. I don't like Miranda overly much. Come to think about it, I don't like anyone overly much. I did have a crush on Johnny a while ago... but the point is, even though I don't like her, I like my mother less. She rang up MUCH too soon, and insisted I go and do my shift at the prison. Yes yes, I said I'd do it, but I didn't know I'd be going to Miranda's then, did I? I hate Mum. I hate the prison.

Well – I suppose, to tell the truth, I actually quite enjoy spending time there with all those stupid wizards and witches. However, I'm putting on weight because of it. All those extra memories add up... and I stopped water polo a few months ago so I'm not getting any exercise any more... I'm so fat. The problem is, spending time guarding the prison is addictive. I never thought I'd find it like this. A few months ago, I was so scornful of all the Dementors who choose a career as a prison guard. It's such an obvious choice. I had thought I'd rather do the independent thing. But now I see why it's so popular. All those tortured souls to feed on... Just thinking about it makes me put on weight. I think a few zits just popped up.

Maybe I should take up skiing. Miranda says it's really fun, and it keeps the weight off, climbing up the mountains. But Mum and Dad can't afford all the expensive gear, probably. That's the worst bit about going to Miranda's; she's such a rich-witch. She hates it when I call her that, especially the witch part, but it's TRUE. It's so unfair.

Monday 26 April

Who am I? I've really started to wonder about my purpose here. I think there's more to life than being really really ridiculously frightening. Is there a God? Am I just another insignificant creature to pass from birth to death? Is anything really real? Siggghhhh... I just don't know.

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Okay I know that was short, but I'd just like to get a few reactions before I write some more. What do you think? Is it funny? Does it have potential? Do you notice the Zoolander bit? Please review!