December 3
It seems that this journal my dear sister loves to write in so much is near its end.
Excellent . . .
This whole journal idea has been a thorn in my side ever since she forced me to have a journal of my own months ago.
But now that this journal is pretty much dead, and Temari doesn't appear interested in starting a new one any time soon, I feel like I'm home free.
Oh shit . . . Someone's coming.
Crap, it's my sister . . .
Journal, if you don't hear from me again, it was nice knowing you.
I will not miss you
Now if you excuse me, I must run for dear life.
Of the two pages I have left in this journal, half of one of them has been wasted by my redhead, irritating little brother who does not know the meaning of personal objects being personal, again.
On a positive note, I taught him a lesson so that he'll remember to never touch my stuff again.
I didn't touch his cacti this time, but I did manage to mix some itching powder into the sand he uses for his body armor.
That'll teach him.
Kankuro has already agreed to hide a mini camera in his hat just so we can catch how Gaara teaches his class later at the Academy in all his itching glory.
Your rightfully vengeful author,
Temari