Entry 4:

I have just started my second year at Degrassi. I'm actually looking forward to starting this year, considering I won't be a loner. Ashley and I are still best friends, my mom and dad are still together, and I feel happy for once in my life. I feel this warmth encompassing my whole body, I feel the need to smile, and maybe even too skip; okay, maybe not skip. I just love this feeling. Oh my god, I sound perky. Let's tone it down a notch El.

Entry 5:

Screw being happy. Dad is now leaving Toronto to fight in Iraq. What can I say? I mean, everything was just perfect and I don't know-everything fell apart. To top it all off, mom started drinking again. Sometimes I think she might drink herself into a coma. I tried to forget about this, so I signed up for a co-op with Caitlin Ryan. Of course, there was competition; Paige Michaelchuck, Queen Bee, Spirit Squad captain, perky fashionista, or on simpler terms, my enemy.

I knew she would get the job, but Ashley said that Paige probably thought that "social issues", was mainly about clothes or a social life. Maybe true, but again, Paige always gets what she wants.

By the time the interview came around, I was a walking, talking disaster. Paige had "accidentally" spilled juice all over my white t-shirt and my eyeliner was smudged. But luckily, Caitlin loved me. Even though my answers to her questions sucked and I was wearing a huge yellow rain coat to hide the juice stain. Paige thought it was because she felt sorry for me, but Paige can think whatever she wants, I have the co-op.

When I arrived home to tell mom the great news, she was too drunk to be happy for me. I headed to my room feeling depressed. I paced back and forth in my room, for some reason. I finally stopped to sit at my desk and do my homework. I heard an earsplitting bang. Mom must of tripped or something, but I managed to dump all my supplies off my desk. I picked up my notebook and pencil, but I saw my compass blade on the ground. I picked it up and dug it into my skin. I slowly watched the crimson red hit the floor. It was as if everything was moving in slow motion. Tears rolled down my cheeks and fell to the ground. It was as if pain was the only way to happiness.

I carried on with my self-destruction. It was one day before class when I felt the urge to cut myself. I headed to the girl's washroom and rolled up my sleeve. I grasped the blade with such intensity it seemed to be slipping out of my palms, because they were so sweaty. I cut my arm and watched it with a great deal of concentration. It was as if I was watching a scary movie and I was waiting for the murder to jump out from behind a door. But instead of a killer, Paige entered. She made her snide comment before she looked over and saw the blood dripping from my arm. She was too repulsed by the sight to even notice the blade. I ran out of there as fast as I could and headed outside. Paige attempted to pry the truth out of me, but I kept silenced and said a hurtful remark.

Later on that day, I saw Paige talking to Ms. Sauvé, the school counselor, about someone. That someone was most likely me. Paige came out and I yelled at her, but she forced me to show her my arm, to prove to me that I was doing something wrong. I cried and she cried too. We embraced each other for a moment, but we continued on the school year like we didn't help me overcome my tendency to cut when things were too stressful.

I started talking to Ms. Sauvé, and she taught me ways to overcome my cutting. I haven't cut since that day.