Disclaimer: What? I told you. They're mine. Back off!
A/N: I know, I know, I know. I'm cracked. You don't need to tell me, seriously. I've heard it all before. Just shut up and enjoy the story. (Oh, and I promise it'll become more of a LotR fic soon. I'm just trying to set her up so that you kinda understand her before the plot actually starts. And don't ask me what the plot is, because I don't know yet.)
Saturday, February 15?
Dear Diary,
Sorry about that. Blonde boy apparently didn't appreciate my lack of interest and decided to take you away from me. Seriously. Does he have, like, no manners or something? Ugh. Guys. You know, there is a reason why I make a point not to date. All guys are idiots till they're at least 40. And there is no way I'm going to date a 40-year-old guy. I'm not even an adult yet, so…yah. Not happening. Sorry!
Anyways. Back to the subject at hand. You know, I really need to learn how to stay on track. It gets a little distracting, sometimes. So. My friends in armour packed up this morning and made me ride a horse with one of the stinky, smelly riders. By the way, the night was really uncomfortable. But at least they gave me a blanket with which to keep warm. Albeit it did stink, but it was better than nothing. So they brought me to this, like, Stone Age settlement place. I'm not kidding. I feel like I was transported to 12th century Europe.
When we got to this city, they then took me to this big…castle? And they made me stand in front of this guy on a throne and they argued forever in whatever their jibber-jabber is, (I'm not kidding, these freaks really think that they are living in Medieval Europe or something.) And after they got done yacking with their kingy-guy, they took me to this really cold stone room with a bed and a skin rug on the fur. I know it's a skin rug, because it has eyes and a mouth. Poor…animal. It got killed to keep my toes warm! How cruel!
So, then, some girl came in—she looks to be in her 20s—and she made me change into this grey dress—full length, mind you—, but I guess I can't blame her. I guess that if they think they're from whenever they think they're from, a girl in jeans might disturb them. And then she brushed my hair and braided it. Now I look like one of them. Yippee.
So now they have me cleaning dishes in this really old version of a kitchen. I'm not kidding—I actually have to draw water and stuff! I don't like it.
Well, I think I'm going to go to sleep. It's been a really long day
Mary Sue