(A/N: I don't own Peanuts)
Dear Diary…
Written by LivingOnLaughs
Peanuts belongs to Charles M Schulz
"Diaries are stupid, Charlie Brown." Lucy Van Pelt told her patient. Charlie looked at her before showing her the diary he picked up. "Lemme see that!" Lucy yelled, snatching the small, pink book from his hands and opening the lock with her blue hairpin. Inside the diary was a note that said: "This diary belongs to _".
Lucy flipped a page and began to read the text:
"Dear Diary, Guess what! Charles and I went to the carnival together. We had so much fun, until he threw up on the roller coaster; but aside from that, the day was a lot of fun. I hope we can do this again soon!"
The fussbudget then looked at Charlie Brown and asked, "Any idea whose diary this is, 'Charles' Brown?" The lovable loser shook his round head in disagreement. "Please read more, Lucy." He asked. "Fine." Lucy muttered as she read another random page:
"Dear Diary, today Charles and I were talking under the tree and I asked him the question again and, you remember what he keeps on saying. He always says, 'DO I WHAT?' well, he always gives me butterflies in my stomach because he is so dreamy with his hazelnut eyes, cute little smile, rosy red cheeks and his adorable yellow t-shirt. Anyways, we had a lot of fun and I even kissed him. I do hope to one day be his wife."
Lucy and Charlie Brown exchanged looks that said, "I know whose diary this is!" yet they did not tell anyone, instead, Lucy asked, "Charlie Brown, where'd you find the diary?" Charlie looked at Lucy before saying, "I found it under the oak tree. Well… Peppermint Patty and I found it there and, I showed you."
When they came to the tree, they couldn't find out WHERE it came from; then he saw it. A thin strand of black hair behind the tree blew in the breeze. Charlie Brown signaled to Lucy to look behind the tree; but Lucy was reading another page of the diary:
"Dear Diary, I'm in a really bad mood, so Mom told me to write down my feelings, so here we go… today Patty and I were caddying for Mrs. Bartley and Mrs. Nelson, when they broke into a fight. It really reminded me when I lashed out on Patty. However, anyways, it was horrible. I ran home and stayed in my room for a good couple of hours before Charles came by. Apparently, he wanted to know what happened at the golf course and I told him everything. He then kissed me on the cheek and whispered 'Poor, sweet baby' to me. Once he left, I began writing this down. I feel a lot better now, so I'll stop."
Charlie Brown kindly asked Lucy, "May I have the diary?" She groaned as she handed it to him. He then raced over behind the tree, calling out her name.
The girl behind the tree looked at him before saying, "Charles, what are you doing with my diary?" The lovable looser blushed as he handed it back. His bespectacled friend smiled before kissing him on his cheek. "Well… I found it…and I wanted to…return it to you…" he stuttered. The girl just giggled before slowly flipping the last page and read it aloud:
"Dear Diary, I loved writing my feelings in you and I hope that you enjoyed it too. It's nice to be able to process all of my thoughts, ambitions, dreams and problems by writing them down in you. Yours truly, Marcie."
Charlie Brown pulled Marcie into a hug as Lucy looked at them in annoyance. "Charlie Brown, you might have girls that like you, but you'll always be a failure." The fussbudget explained, storming off.
"I have a diary too." Charlie Brown explained. "I pour out all of my problems on it, and I'm on my fourth one." He added, causing Marcie to laugh a little.
"I know, I'm a failure but if just one person believes in me, deep enough and strong enough believes in me, hard enough and long enough, someone else will think, 'If he can do it, I can do it' making it two. Two whole people who believe in you. In addition, it goes on and on until even you can believe in you, too." He explained before feeling a kiss get planted on his cheek.
"You're not a failure, Charles; you're one of my friends and I love you." The bespectacled girl replied lovingly.