Me: Hola! I assume that you've been told my my latest chapter that this story has been majorly edited. (If not, and you're just a new reader, then welcome!)

Sorry, I just wasn't happy with it and I wanted to change it. First note:

The whole story is Fang's POV. There might be one or two instances where its not, but that will be rare.

Second note:

Reviews are loved! In this month, I've had over 300 hits! And only 6 or so reviews! So please... at least say whether you like it or not.

Fang: Yes, please. You're not the one who has to listen to her moan about it...

Me: -whacks Fang- I don't whine!

Anywho, thanks to those who do review XD I'm sending you lots of love right now!

BY THE WAY: takes place after book 3, and it's Fang's diary... yeah, I know, based off of DOALM. I just like it better that way :D

June 7, 2010

Okay. We're going to start this off right; this isn't a diary. This is a man-journal. And the only reason I started this was because Max thrust it into my hands, told me I need to, "Get in touch with your fnicking feelings already!" And walked away.

So yeah. Hmm... well, this whole day has been... interesting. Let's start with my dream now, shall we?

I felt accelerated. Excited. High. I was flying high, high in the sky…. The clouds swirled around me as I reached higher and higher for the sun, my wings rushing up, pushing me higher…

Then pain. I felt a rush of pain and started to sink, lower and lower… what was happening to me? The pain was throughout my whole body, not just one specific part… I gasped as the ground came closer. I strained my wings and tried to fly but the pain was just too great. Soon I crashed onto a field of… marshmallows?

But still, the pain was great. And when I looked up, I saw why.

It was Justin Bieber singing.

I woke with a start. The first thing I heard, naturally, was Nudge blasting her new Justin Beiber album. In my room, for some odd reason. It wasn't my CD player, though. It was Nudge's. I screwed up my forehead and reached to smash my hand onto the 'off' button.

Instant relief.

"FANG!"

Crap.

Nudge ran into my room and started babbling/yelling at me.

"That was my new album, how can you just turn it off, you're not the only one who lives here! And I think you broke my CD player! I just got it, too! Dr. Martinez told me I should get something to play my music on since I was always stealing hers so she bought me this one! And I loved it until you broke it! But you have no right to just turn off my music just because you don't like something that I play-"

I held up my hand, grabbed her CD player remote, and started pressing a button. Nudge frowned at me.

"What are you doing?"

"Pressing mute," I said dryly, "Can you just stop for… say, two minutes and let me enjoy this Beiber free moment?"

Nudge and I had this ongoing argument about Justin Beiber: Singer, or secret agent for an old singer who was jealous of everyone who never liked him so he decided to sik him on us just to get back at us for hating him. I think you know what side I'm for.

"Fine. Two minutes. Then I'm coming back in here and turning the music back on."

I groaned as she stomped out of the door. Once she was gone, I snatched up her CD player and tried to find a way to disable it. But the back wouldn't open, and apparently you needed some kind of special screwdriver to open it. Since I didn't have a screwdriver on hand, I did the only sensible thing.

I tried to gnaw it off with my teeth. Or you could say that I bit it. Whatever one doesn't sound too morbid and weird.

Sadly, in the real world, you can't substitute words and make a scene look better. So when Max walked in on me….

"Why are you eating Nudge's CD player?" She frowned.

"I'm not, I'm just trying to disable it so she can't play her stupid Justin Beiber CD," I said, but with the player in my mouth, it sounded more like this:

"Ibot, ib I'm fuff fyng to isablet ohheant hayherhupid hustin heiher heehee."

She stared at me.

"You know, if you're that hungry, there's bacon and pancakes in the kitchen," She said, pointed to the kitchen. I frowned at him and removed the player from my mouth.

"I wasn't eating it. I was trying to kill Beiber."

It sounded a lot better when I said it in my mind. Max slowly backed up, probably thinking that I had gone mentally insane.

"Ooookaaaay… Um, you do know that Justin Beiber isn't actually in the CD player, right? It's just a recording of him."

I glowered at Max. She just shrugged and left- probably to enjoy her pancakes. Like she could live with Justin Beiber blasting in her ears at 8 in the morning.

About half an hour after the Max CD incident, I walked into the kitchen. I'm sure Iggy thought I was a nut when I stumbled in muttering about Justin Beiber, Max, and eating a CD player, but I didn't care. He's been convinced I should be locked up ever since that incident with the venus flytrap... yeah...

"Gimme some food," I yawned, slumping into the table. Iggy gave me a look.

"Why?" He said in a mocking tone, "I hear that you would rather eat some piece of plastic then my delicious cooking..."

I glared at him, "Max came in here?"

He nodded and flashed me a grin that would give an axe-murderer nightmares.

"Damn her..." I muttered, "You know, your devious mind could really come in handy right now."

He gave me an innocent look (You know, it's really weird how one second he can be scaring axe-murderers, and the next be giving you Bambi eyes), "Fang, I think its time for me to turn over a new leaf and not try to get revenge on people anymore."

"Don't even. You're just saying that because you like seeing me in pain."

He laughed evilly, "Oooooh yeah. And wait till you see what she has in store for... hey, did you happen to stumble across a certain magazine in your bed last night?"

I stiffened up, "Iggy, please tell me that you haven't been ordering playboy."

"Of course not! Not after what happened last week..."

Is it sad that I wasn't surprised when he said that?

"Okay then... and what were you saying about revenge? And Max? And me?"

He looked up at me blankly, "Huh? Oh... never mind. Well, if you see any magazines..."

He walked out of the kitchen. The weirdest part is... Iggy and I don't share a room. Why would his magazine be in my bed?

... I don't think I want to know.

-Fang

Me: So there ya have it!

RnR?