Disclaimer: Fiona Gilbert is my own creation, however, everything else belongs to the lovely and talented LJ Smith.

September 2nd, 1991

Dear Diary,

Elena's been acting strange since we got back to Virginia. Sullen, even. I don't know what it is. When we were in France, she was the life of the part, lighting up every event like usual. The boys would follow her around, and the snooty Parisian girls would add scathing remarks to her name, speaking them in their native tongues with sparklingly fake smiles on their faces.

As if she didn't know what they were saying. She's the one that took French, while I was off in my own world, drawing "pictures" as she so eloquently puts it. It's not like she cares that they're insulting her. As long as they're talking about her, as long as they notice her, that's all that matters. Otherwise, her world would come to an end, her fire would go out if there was no one left to pay attention to her. At least that's what it seems.
Now don't get me wrong; I love my sister. She's been the rock in the family. When Mom and Dad died, us girls would have fallen apart if it weren't for her pushing us to keep strong, and move on. And move on she did. It's just, sometimes I feel a little left out. Left out of not only the world's attention, but mostly my sister's as well. But who really expects me to be anything less then invisible next to the beacon of Fell's Church. It sounds harsh, and bitter, and I suppose it is, but it's the truth. I'm just me. Plain, unexciting and absolutely dreary Fiona Gilbert.

Here I go off ranting again. It seems to happen in most of my entries, but this is the only place where I can truly vent and express everything I'm feeling. I used to have that with Elena, but that all changed when she entered high school, and became the reigning Ice Queen of Robert E. Lee. Which brings me back to our ever-revolving center of the universe. Elena.

I don't know what's wrong with her. Since we got back to Virginia, she's been, well, agitated would be the word I would use. She's fidgeting and squirming. Not like shes excited to be home. More like she's hoping to find something, and yet afraid that it won't be there when she gets there. Like she's looking for something, and her hopes are crashing with every mile closer to Fell's Church we get. And she won't tell me what it is she's looking for. It's almost like she doesn't know it herself.
It worries me.

I myself, am dreading our return. I sound so formal saying that, don't I? But I couldn't think of anything else that would fit how I'm feeling. How sad I am to have to return to a place where no one notices me, where nothing special could possibly happen. A dull existence, I must admit. I find myself wishing something, anything would happen, just to make the new school year exciting. Just so that maybe once, just once, I could do something extraordinary, and find someone who notices me. Not just because I'm Elena's younger sister, but because I'm Fiona. Someone who doesn't quite know herself yet, but is still striving to make a place for herself, and is still a person worth getting to know.

Yeah, if only.

Aunt Judith's pulling into our driveway now. I'll write more later.

September 2nd, Later

Dear Diary,

I should be in bed right now. Orientation is tomorrow morning, but I promised I would write. When I left you last (wow, doesn't that just sound like a tv show announcer. Up next on Beverly Hills 90210…. HAHA).. What I meant was, when I stopped writing, Aunt Judith had just pulled up in the driveway. Before she even had the chance to turn the engine off, Elena practically threw herself out of the car, bounding for the front. It seemed like this was what she'd been anticipating. I can't imagine why.

I could see her rocking on the balls of her feet, impatiently waiting for us to unload the car and carry our baggage over. I'm sure you don't need to be told she didn't help. And when Aunt Judith opened the front door, Elena squeezed past her, swinging the door out of her grasp. The keys were still hanging in the door. And then Elena just stood in the middle of the foyer, listening, waiting. I can't tell you how long she stood there, but it was almost terrifying. But what was even scarier, was the look of shattered hope on her face after those long moments of waiting produced nothing. I've never seen her look so lost.

After that, she took her bags from the porch and left for her room, not even bothering to answer Aunt Judith's worried queries with anything other that an, "I'm fine." She's been sleeping since then.

I don't know what's wrong with her. She won't tell me. Not like I expected her to, but still, I can't help my curiosity.

I've decided if she's still acting weird tomorrow, I'll make her talk somehow. But for now, I need sleep. Orientation is only a few hours away, and jet lag sure picked a hell of a time to kick in. G'night.