Leather-bound blood pages.

I do not own the characters of this story. Nintendo does.

Chapter 2


31/1/2010 4:57pm

Dear Journal,

Love sucks.

Sometime I think love is nothing more than a story. In all the fairy tales, the prince and the princess are always together by the end of their adventures. In every book you read, the couple always lives happily ever after. Real life isn't like that. Real life is more cruel than any story is. When you have to live every day knowing that your love could never be fulfilled, returned, or even accepted. When part of your life has to be hidden from everyone in your life, you learn how harsh society can be on anyone who's different. How even your own family, your own love, think that you're a mistake, that's what real life is made of. Because love is a story. Nothing more, nothing less.

Oh god. That sounds so... uggh. I'm getting sappier by the day. I'm going to sound like my usual self now.

Starting... now.

I hope your day on the shelf was okay because for me, today was terrible... though it was probably heaven for Nana (though I hate to say it).

Granted, it started off ok.

Wake up, get dressed, eat an amazing breakfast prepared by Nana herself (our parents are away visiting our grandmother in hospital! We have like... a month to ourselves). Then we walked to school together; Nana and I, like always. Sat through our classes until lunch...

That's when my slightly cloudy mood turned into a complete downpour.

Nana and I always eat together, and we bring our own lunch boxes so we just join our desks together in the classroom. Screw the cafeteria. Lunch is my special time with Nana, because that's when she really opens up to me.

She tells me her opinions (whether it be on food, or people), her goals, and I'm able to sit and listen. I love to listen to Nana talk. She always says the most interesting things when she gets going.

But today, an unwanted third party decided to march his unwanted ass over to our spot and asked to sit with us.

You guessed it. Marth.

Prince perfect himself.

I could feel Nana just radiating her joy. And it hurt... like swords piercing my heart.

But instead of just saying "Well sit your fine ass down!" like I know she wanted to, she asked him if he lost a bet. I did not see that coming, so of course I start laughing, but I try to hide it.

I failed.

But Marth joined us anyway, and hogged up all of Nana's attention. Therefore, I got no talk-time today. At all.

Nothing.

Zip.

Nada.

I'm sure at least one of the two caught my glares towards the guy, but I wasn't asked about it.

Why does this have to happen to me?

Why does God hate me so much? Why, I ask?

But while they were talking, I couldn't not look at Nana either. She was smiling most of the time she spoke with him. The beautiful smiles that make my heart lurch when it knows they're not for me.

They were for him.

It hurts.

God, it hurts.

So much.

On our way home from school later that day, Nana was all happy and bubbly and my foul mood couldn't touch her.

Though she did ask me a few times if I was alright... in a sisterly way of course.

I told her I was completely fine.

Don't you worry journal. All is well. I just broke three mechanical pencils in my frustration after lunch, and now here I am sulking in my own doom cloud. Yes, note the sarcasm dear journal.

To make things worse, Marth asked if he could sit with us tomorrow. I felt everything in my body sink when Nana happily agreed to the proposal.

Damnit.

Just... Damnit.

- Popo


Cue Prince Perfect Marth. Mehehehe. Oh what fun we will have with him

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