Chapter 1 - Beginning

April 1st, 2016

I got this journal thing today as a birthday gift, which is what i'm writing in right now.

OK, so I know i'm not the BEST at writing, even about myself, but I try my best. I can't really help writing weirdly. I dunno what about me makes me do it so badly, maybe it's all those "explanatory essay" things they always make us do.

Well, i'm getting off topic.

If this is a journal thing, kinda like in Diary of a Wimpy Kid or something, I might as well write about my life in it.

So if anyone who happens to NOT be me reading this, which I dunno why you would, i'm Lane Dozer. I'm just your typical, everyday teenager, nothing special. Just a normal 14 year old.

Nothing special.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Aaannnyyyways, my life so far had been rough, but still good enough to not want to kill myself, which is great.

I actually made myself a scale on how bad or good my days are, 1 is "I want to die" bad, and 10 is... better than 9 I guess?

Today was around a 9, I wouldn't say today was PERFECT, but it was pretty good.

I spent most of the day hanging out with my cousins and stuff in the backyard, playing on the trampoline and stuff.

At around 6:00 PM, we had dinner.

Then at 7:30 PM, we had cake.

At about 9:30, that's when we got to the best part:

Presents.

I got a few new games for my Nintendo DSi, one for my PS3, a lego set, some clothes, and, of course, this journal.

If I didn't get it, I wouldn't be writing this right now.

But the best present came from my cousin, who i'll just call C for now.

So C came to the party at around 4:45 PM, along with his Dad and pet bunny.

We hung out on the couch for a while, playing some multiplayer Mario Kart DS, and then I left to hang out with evwryone else.

Now, C and me have GREAT records when it comes to our birthday gifts, we ALWAYS get each other some pretty cool things.

But when I was done opening presents, when everyone else was begining to leave, C and his Dad stayed.

Me: Hey, C, aren't you going to leave now? The party is kinda over.

C: Well, I actually had some... good-ish bad-ish news to tell you.

Me: Holy crap, what is it?

C: Well, as you may know, me and my Dad are kinda... broke at the moment...

C, at this time, is staying at my grandmas house for a while until his Dad can find a new job. Just to give a bit of context, his Dad and Mom got divorced about a year or so ago, which is why he lives alonw with his dad.

Me: Yeah, so?

C: I'll just tell you right here, right now... We can't keep taking care of Oli.

I knew EXACTLY what they were talking about, Olivia (Oli being the short version. Don't ask why they think "Olivia" is too long of a name) was the name of their pet bunny, which he got a few years ago.

I absolutely LOVE Oli, and I knew EXACTLY what he was about to say.

C: We want YOU to take care of them... for now, atleast.

Me: Wait, did you ask my parents first? They aren't exactly... you know... PREPARED for a new pet?

C: Oh yeah, Dad informed them about it yesterday, over the phone.

Me: Well, did they say I could keep them?

C: Not KEEP. Just TAKE CARE OF, until me and Dad finally get enough money to take care of them then.

You already know I had to take that offer!

I loved Oli, Oli loved me. Match made in heaven!

So right now, we just have Oli staying in a cage in my room. It probably sucks for them, considering they had their own sort of "play area" in Cs old basement, but we just don't have enough room in the house for that.

I'm currently in bed right now, TOTALLY sleeping. It's a good thing I keep this thing in a secret place under my bed, because my parents knowing i'm staying up late writing would absolutely SUCK for me!

I really like writing and drawing alot, expecially drawing.

I'm not saying i'm good at them. Pretty far from it, actually. But I still like it alot.

I always draw people as humanoid dog-like people. Usualy just human beings with animal ears at this point.

I know, not the most creative thing, but it's the best I could do. Do you KNOW how hard it is to draw? Perspective is my worst enemy at this point.

I usualy get writing ideas from sleeping, because my dreams usually contain the most interesting stuff.

The cool thing is, sometimes, my dreams feel so real, that I almost believe that they're really going on.

But I always forget most of those ones, but who knows?

The real ones, from what little I know of, I always theorize come from some distant memories of mine. Most of them I don't even think are really mine!

Well, can't keep writing, my Dad always checks on me at midnight to make sure i'm asleep, so I better get to that.

I'm just curious about the whole "dreams" thing again, I always am whenever I bring it up.

Eh, well, who knows?

Maybe with my dumb luck...

I'll remember one someday!