Dear Diary,
As I write, I'm holding a chunk of meat to my eye. Some of the blood is dripping onto your pages and the very thought makes me want to vomit. Very Viking like, huh? I know, I know. But, I have a nasty black eye so dad says that the meat has to stay. To tell you the truth, I don't know what I was doing that made Snotlout so mad but one second I was drawing and minding my own business and the next, his fist had collided with my face. Everyone gasped as I stood up, my hand pressed over my now throbbing eye. I wasn't bleeding but Astrid, (gods, why did she always have to see me hurt?) came over and gently removed my hand from my face to let me look into her axe to see my reflection. When I saw myself, I gasped in horror. Gingerly, I pushed my bangs away from my eye and saw that it was purple and blue from my eyebrow to my cheek bone. So, I ran. I didn't want anyone to see me cry so I ran into the woods- my only solitude on this crazy, messed up island. I didn't bother to stop and say hello to Toothless because I was in too much pain and the whole world seemed blurry. When I came to the river, I took off my shirt and dipped it into the icy stream. I placed the now freezing cold shirt onto my face and shivered. Pretty soon I was shaking all over but at least my eye had stopped throbbing. I had absolutely no intention what-so-ever to put my shirt back on so I pulled my vest on and went home. That was the only safe place I could think of where nothing seemed threatening (except my father of course, but he wasn't home at the time). When I got there, I tended to my eye some more but nothing changed much in the appearance or the feel. that night at dinner, I sat at one of the table and dad sat at the other. I looked down through out the entire meal. Finally, my father noticed and said,
"Son, look up."
I did. Sort of. Well, only half way.
"More."
Frantically, I began to pull and tug my bangs over my eye. When I thought I had done a good enough job, I slowly raised my head. Suddenly, my father began to clap. He went on clapping until he was out of his chair and giving me a standing ovation. He must have noticed the look on my face because all at once, he stopped and sat down.
"What was that for?" I asked, my tone sharper than I ment it to be. "You got your first black eye which means you were in a fight which means," he paused dramatically, "You are FINALLY showing some kind of Viking tendancies. And for that I couldn't be more proud."
I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought. But, at least my father was proud because in the end, that's all that counts... right? I was going to tell him the truth but I didn't want to be a disappointment. Again. So after a long story about how yes, I beat up some random kid, (and my dad actually believed me) snuck out of the house to go see Toothless. He sniffed my eye suspiciously.
"What?" I asked. "Haven't you ever gotten a black eye?"
Stupid question. Toothless was black so even if he had gotten a black eye, it wouldn't have shown up anyways. I spent a good part of the night babbling on and on to him about my problems and he listened. When I finally got home, I was pretty tired and the next day, I could barely see out of my eye because it had swollen nearly shut. And so that's where I am today. Sitting at the table, writing, and holding a steak to my eye. Well, enough of this pity party. I have to go and hide you fast. I just saw dad coming up the hill and towards the house...
-Hiccup H.H. III