A/N: In case you're going to be confused, this story is formatted as a diary, so all the entries and dates are what you would find in a regular journal. FF doesn't let me use actual lines, so that was frustrating. If there's a date with a few periods below it, that means she didn't write anything that day. I didn't underline her actual entries, since that just looked awkward. And this chapter's pretty short, but they'll get longer if you think I should keep going.
Anyway, enjoy!
Monday, August 1
Ugh. What do I even write? What the hell is this even for?!
Tuesday, August 2
Yes, Mary-Margaret, I realize that yesterday's entry was not "acceptable". Whatever. It's your fault for making me do this. If you force me, you're going to get crap results! You're going to have to tell me what to write here! I've never even owned a diary, much less used one!
Wednesday, August 3
I hate this.
Thursday, August 4
...
Friday, August 5
...
Saturday, August 6
Fine! I'll write the freaking diary entry! Anything to get you to stop bugging me! You've been pestering me for a week about this! Jesus Christ, mom! Alright.
Dear Damn Diary,
Today sucked because my mother made me write this entry. I'm in my twenties, by the way. My twenties. Writing in a diary. A diary where you're supposed to share your deepest thoughts and feelings and whatever. It's supposed to be secret, too. (I'm talking to you, mom.) I don't even know what to write about. My love interests? My first period? Yes, diary, red stuff came out of my vagina for the first time ten years ago. Fantastic. Now I have to worry about bleeding all over chairs and my pants for one week out of the month. Sometimes two weeks, if God decides to punish me for eating extra donuts in the morning before work.
There you go, Mary-Margaret, a nice paragraph for you to re-read and try to interpret some hidden meaning. There isn't one, by the way, in case you're actually wanting my opinion. I have no problems besides my life.
Sarcastically yours, Emma Swan