Coolness I guess.
Disclaimer is basically I got the idea after reading DLSM by Phoenix Fanatic.
This story is completely different though, don't worry.
So Characters are obviously not by me, I'm not sure how many lawyers actually are on fanfiction, but I guess it's just in case you're interested.
Glad we can share a fandom :)
Dear Diary,
What is the number one leading cause of death in America? Well, when I look it up on Google, it says heart disease. But really, what does that tell me? Nothing, that's what, because heart disease is caused by at least five different things, and at least three of them are things I can't control. I already know half my genes are ugly, but defective is always possible too.
I bet you're wondering why I started this book, Diary. If we're being honest, which in fact we are, I discovered something after reading just one line of a book; a book that is very undermining of my gender. I've given plenty of thought to how I would die, and the things I come up with are not pretty. Either being mauled by rabid dog mutations, or being blown up by madmen (because God knows we don't have enough of those on this planet). And then it hit me; heart disease. About 600,000 American's have it, so why not me. What's going to stop me from being the 1 in 4 Americans who die of a heart attack? So that's why I've started this little book, to pretty much list all the things I have to do before I die and successfully log them in this Diary, as well as my thoughts because without writing things down, how are people supposed to look back and find out how awesome you are?
For the record, Diary, I know I'm going to die. Obviously as we learned in our last little "adventure", Fang is the one with the key to immortality in his stupid, messed up blood, not me. Why we never figured this out before is beyond me. It sure is annoying though because for three months after Dylan's attempt to forcefully choke him to death, we were all on edge, thinking someone was going to try and wring Fang's neck in his sleep. Of course there's Jeb, my non proven father, who wants to kill him before they unlock the key, and the other group of scientists who want to drain his blood so that they can unlock the key. It is also very downright frustrating that all these useless skills keep popping up. I can imagine the dialogue of his blood cells now.
"Oh hey, DNA, you're so awesome because you're part bird and everything. We wanna be special too! Oh I know, let's be immortal, but not completely immortal, like only half immortal! Why? Cause we're Fang's blood cells and we're so fucking special!" See? It suits his personality perfectly.
So that's first on my list. Either a) fix his blood's superiority complex or b) encourage my blood to step up it's game and not let Fang's blood be more special than mine. That way, I can be more secure by watching my back and have an excuse for keeping the kids on their best game, and solve Fang's stubborn resistance to being protected.
And currently as I decide this, I am trying not to gouge out my eyes and/or cut off my ears with the spoon I am holding as I dig deeper into the tub of ice cream I demanded to have before Nudge forced me to watch what has to have been the worst movie she has made me sit through. You know, the one that is based off the book that proves females really can't take care of themselves. That was a really long sentence. Great now I'm writing like Nudge too.
"I've never given much thought to how I would die"- Oh, so you're stupid then? The one percent of people who don't do that are probably the optimists, and the girl who complains about going to live with her awesome cop dad who bought her a truck is no optimist. If my dad was a cop instead of a mad scientist who experimented on me and my friends when we were babies, hell, I'd be the happiest person alive. Glass half full all the way, giggling, dancing and singing like a My Little Pony on ecstasy. But sadly that is not the case, and I am sitting on a couch, watching a stupid movie and writing out things to do before I die. That just puts a real perspective on my life. So I guess I found out number two on my list. Experiment Alcoholism. I heard it can be a blast for people with problems.
Just in case it wasn't clear, that was me being very sarcastic. If I'm worried about heart disease ruining my life, I am sure not going to waste it one alcohol poisoning.
Number two is actually try to be more optimistic. I've been a bit of a downer lately as Gazzy and Iggy have had no problem pointing out. It's not entirely my fault that I've been a pessimist. I mean, Gazzy, Iggy, Dylan and Fang took off this morning at eight and flew to Stratum Lasertag, leaving me to have a "girl's day" with Nudge and Angel. I wanted to call sexist pig over and over again but sadly, Angel and Nudge pulled the puppy dog eyes and promised they would pay for a full day of beating the boy's asses at paintball or something if I took them on a girl's day. So now I was stuck here, holding my tongue to try not to make a sarcastic comment every time someone opened their mouth, or made an entirely stupid voice over.
"Max, what are you doing? Pay attention." Angel is whining at me now from the adjacent couch to my right. My knees are up so I don't think she sees you Diary. Frankly, I don't even know why I call you Diary. Originally, I was going to call you Max's Book of Death, but that just sound equally as depressing and pathetic as Diary, no offense or anything. But it's not as if you have feelings, you're just a book in which I write out my thoughts and wishes, hopes and desires. So yeah a Diary.
"I'm trying to pay attention as much as I can Angel, but her acting skills are killing me." I answered back. Angel rolled her eyes at me and went back to watching the actresses unpack her room. Wow, I really want to watch that! Amazing! Spectacular! A-word-that-means-really-awesome!
"Max, stop writing down your criticisms, it's as bad as saying them." Nudge snapped at me from where she was sitting at my feet, right next to the giant bowl of popcorn she hadn't even touched. I leaned forward and scooped a giant handful, being careful not to drop you Diary, since she obviously thought I was being cynical. I guess I am, since half of what I've written are comments about the movie, "Another name for Midnight". Jeez, maybe I should just convert it into "My thoughts on a movie names after the soft glowing light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon, caused by the reflection of the sun's rays from the atmosphere."
"Well you can't hear them, so why do you care?" I snapped back at her, before popping a piece of popcorn into my mouth. It was salty and buttery, just how I like it. "Besides, I can't take that weird, blank look she does anymore." I continued, trying not to let the extra melted butter slip through my fingers.
"Why, because it's not as good as Fang's?" Angel suddenly snapped. I have to say, that definitely caught me off guard and I nearly choked and coughed up a popcorn kernel.
"I agree." Great, now Nudge is commenting. "Her blank look is definitely playing for second on the hotness level."
"I think it's rather odd you're comparing guys and girls together on their level of attraction." Oh god, Total! I totally forgot he was sitting on a cushion next to Angel. Haha, get it, Total, totally? I've got to get better jokes.
"Guys, just drop it!" I finally snapped. There you got me. My third thing I have to do before I die is get my priorities straight, because if I'm more worried about my non-existent teenager romance life rather than what I would use as a weapon if three Eraser's were to jump in the window at this second, I have something wrong with me.
You can relax a little Max, the Eraser's are gone and you're not going to die of heart disease. That was Angel by the way, in my head, once again. I must have been making a weird face or something. So now I very politely told her the rules of respect when one is writing a Diary and also may have pathetically begged her not to tell anyone. The Flock knowing about Max's Diary of Death in not going to be a good start on Life Experience Number 2.
But they did all drop it, even Angel after she sent me a brain wave or something to tell me it was love life, not romance life. But I refuse to call it that, because that would be giving into the teenager lingo and would be in complete violation of Life Experience Number 3.
And now before, everyone else get's too suspicious about my jotting down, I'm going stuff you into the couch's spring board and try not to die as I suffer through this horrible movie. Honestly, it's going to suck if it does kill me, because then all this writing would have been for nothing. Gee, what a shame.
Sincerely, Max