Dear Diary
By Tru Eve
She knows she doesn't belong, but she's been told too many times to quit the fantasies. Dear Diary is the story of puberty that's way too much to be just puberty.
Disclaimer: Tru is mine, no takey. Idea of Jewels, hierarchy of Jewels and Self? Not mine, Anne Bishop's. Go read the Dark Jewels Trilogy, damn you! Eyriens and Elves? Not mine, Anne Bishop's and… well… okay, no one gets to claim Elves. And yes, Spike refers to the character Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
It was a twisted mesh of the stories of her head and the dreams that came to her when the moon rose. She descended behind her eyes, trying desperately to find the pathway into her soul, find the path into her Self. Her mind brought feral thoughts, trying to move beyond this human wall, this mortal wall that was keeping her from her dreams. It had always lived inside her, just beyond reach, just beyond true comprehension, just far enough out of reach that she herself dismissed it as childish. Until now.
It was 3 months after she had turned 14, 2 months after beginning high school, and 3 years after truly starting the long struggle to name who she was, to find her sense of self and hold it. The power within her was stirring, the dreams were being pieced together, and slowly, she was beginning to truly believe what in her heart, she had always suspected. Luck could no longer be passed of as just luck, her empathy could no longer be written off as just empathy, and the threads of thoughts and emotions that she discovered around animals no longer seemed like just impulses. Something was happening within her, something she had waited for, for a very long time.
Still, something inside her denied it. Magic? Still, something inside her demanded that this was all a charade. She had declared herself Pagan a year ago, and had shaped her ideas and beliefs slowly since then, into a unique set of ideas that confused even the most enlightened mind. Still, something inside her was not convinced. A small part of her kept telling her that she was fooling herself, grasping at invisible threads to give herself purpose and importance; it was a small part, but just big enough to leave her frustrated and uncertain.
Her multiple personalities were waging all out war inside her head. The prep, the prude, the emo, the pagan, the scholar, the Queen, and the young girl who refused to grow up . . . all of them, fighting, ripping, tearing, one by one surfacing as they gained power. Too many conflicts, too many emotions, too much to be just puberty, too much to be just high school drama. She was lonely, she was independent, she was questioning, she was confused, she was comfortable, she was happy, she was sad, she was energetic, and she was exhausted, all at the same time. By nature, she was terrible at multi-tasking, she need space and she need time to process everything one thing at a time. Most of all, she need a friend, someone she could truly talk and complain to, someone who could help her sort through the mess inside her head, someone who would actually understand. But she looked in the mirror and saw a face that, as of yet, did not truly have a name and she knew that it would be a long time before someone like that appeared. It was a pity she was so impatient.
Bwahahah, you shall never read further if no reviews… meh. Who am I kidding? I give you one more chapter, then reviews.
Scary much?