My breath catches in my throat at the next words that come from the girl with long blonde hair's mouth. Three words surged together that made me giddy with happiness, "These are amazing!"

But instantly my thoughts turn sour as my eyes flick to the bulldozer and her face of utter disgust. "She's a freak!" she shrieks, "Those pieces are disgusting, how dare she write any of it!"

My hands haphazardly grab at the pages on the surrounding floor so I can leave and drown in my misery as quickly as possible.

A hand brushes mine as I go, sending tingles down my spine. I look up into soft green eyes. Eyes that were green like the first shot of grass through months of white winter snow. A sign that spring was coming along. I would have to write that in my journal. When I get a new one though. Another wave of sadness washed through me and I continued fumbling for the pages.

Gripping the last of the remains of the pages I stood and ran. They could keep the pages they took from me, I just want to get home.

As I burst through the door my mother calls out for me, but I run straight past, tears were probably streaming down my face but I didn't care. I leap to my bed and sobs wrack my body. And as I drown in my sorrow, I cry myself to sleep.

I lounge in bed all of Sunday. My family tries to help but it's hard for them to understand my attachment to that journal. I have had that journal since I was eleven and now I'm fourteen. That's three entire years ripped from me.

By the time Monday comes along my eyes are dry, but there is still a pang in my heart. I couldn't be more anxious about school today. I threw on some jeans and a floral top, grabbed my jumper and headed for the subway.

I kept my head down all the way to school and continued it through the halls. When I got to my locker I finally looked up grabbing my books a rushing to the room before anyone took notice, no one usually did.

But before I could make my escape a hand caught my wrist and spun me around. There standing in front of me was Mr. Perfect, The Genius and the girl with the long blonde hair.

"Hey, sorry about the other day. We didn't mean to startle you or anything." The genius says apologetically.

"It's fine." I mumble.

"We want apologizes about Missy, especially me. What she did was way out of hand." Mr. Perfect added.

I gave him a small smile and turned to leave but the girl with long blonde hair stopped me.

"Um, we would really like it if you came to Svorski's bakery after school. Would you like that?" she asks.

I turn and smile at her and say, "Yeah, I would like that." Before running into the classroom.

The day went by in a blur and eventually I was walking to Svorski's bakery.

When I arrived they were sitting at the booth I was at the other day. I made my way over cautiously. They were in the middle of a conversation but as soon as they saw me they stopped.

"Hi, um, we felt really bad about your journal and stuff so um, we got you a new one." The girl says.

She holds out a book with a brown leather cover, there is a flower inscription in the leather. I flip the page open and on the first page is a beautiful drawing of a girl writing in a journal just like mine. Her face is almost hidden behind her wavy brown locks but you can see a small smile and light in her eyes behind her glasses. In a caption underneath it says,

You are truly amazing at what you do! Don't let someone's words stop you!

By Maya Hart

I flip to the next page to find a poem, it reads

The writer,

The writer is a weaver of words. She takes the threads of words, and intertwines them into a pattern. Inside the reader's mind, the words are laced together until the imagined or real intent of the writer is achieved. To study a writer is like studying the wind. On cannot simply understand how the writer can achieve this level of intimacy with its reader. Her words have power whether she knows it or not. She is a writer, journalist, an observer, an artist.

She is Riley.

By Farkle Minkus

I flip another page to find another poem.

A Princess

How can a beautiful girl feel so alone? How can you feel invisible when you light up every room?

Sure everyone has flaws even the most perfect people. But how can a girl feel so insecure when she is as amazing as she is.

She is a princess and always will be.

She has the power to change the world and one day she will change it for good.

I used to think you never saw me or anyone for that matter, but I know better.

You are a princess.

By Lucas Friar

When I flip to the next page glued to the sheets are the pieces they took, The Girl with the Girl Long Blonde Hair, The Genius and Mr. Perfect.

Tears are slowly pouring from my eyes and I smile uncontrollably. Before I can stop myself I pull them out of the booth and hug them as tight as I can.

My heart is no longer hurting and for the moment all I can do is hope for it to never hurt again.

A/N: Hello! So this is kinds a filler chapter because I want to move onto some new sections. Hoped you like it! Reveiw, Favourite, Follow. See you soon!