December 13, 1997
As I sit here on the wicked old tree stump and watch the world twirl by I sigh at what I have done. I know my ancestors would have done the same thing but I did it wrong. I have "fought fire with fire" I have lost my personality. I have started to hide behind a mask and not be myself. Myself...Myself...I wish I was myself. Though I can't be myself. If I was myself then everyone would pass by. Behind all of the makeup and fake hair, is a smart, beautiful, young lady waiting to be discovered. Waiting and waiting for the special one to discover her and release the lock that's locked up tight. An unbelievable sight as that same woman held that deadly knife. The knife that ended the world for an unexpected soul. The cries and pain, she left him in vain. He cried she did too. As she wished it were new. That mask she wears that makes her a "somebody" actually is worse than being a "nobody". It's cool, it's cool they say, to act that way. To do illegal drugs and get high, to chug down a bottle of beer in a blink of an eye. But it's not! I say. It's the bad way! But I cannot say that, as if it will end my spot on the popular list. That list is what's "in". The thing to be. Everyone knows me...But doesn't know me. The one person who knew me, my only true friend, I have killed...His life came to an end. I cried after what I did. I cried...I cried for him. Of course now I'm the most popular girl in school. But behind this cruel, cruel girl I've became; is one that is in critical pain. I'm in trouble, trouble now. All anyone could say was, "Wow..." I'm sad, I'm hurt, I'm a big flirt. Though I don't like pink and preppy girls, I act as if it was my world. My family hates me now...My sister, my brother, my parents...Probably even my own house. They're sending me away...Away to an awful place. I don't know where, or how...But it's all happening now. I packed my bags, said good-bye, and now I sit here on the curbside. I cry now all over my journal, it's cold and there's evil squirrels. I take a blanket and cover my legs, while my arms have to stay the same. My teeth chatter in the depth of the night as I try to write this last sentence in my journal. My time has come for me to go...I can't stay in this form forever. I can't live with what I have done...If only I could turn back time and make it alright...But as you read my finishing sentence I must say thanks to you for trusting in me...You know who you are... Here if you still continue to read I must say, this is what I live for today, this is the life journal of Leah May.