Anna's Diary Entry#7

I hate my school for many reasons. Nobody is nice, and the teachers don't care if I'm alive or dead. Sure, they care about the others, but not me. Because I'm not popular. Popularity. The only thing that matters. In this insane-asylum hellhole, popularity is excluding others, being a snobby mean person, and just making people want to kill themselves! The only people I trust here are: my friend Caitlyn, my 5th grade teacher, the only teacher that seems to care for others, and the two counselors! Well, I'm wiser than all of my teachers combined anyway, not to be mean. I don't even trust my parents! I'm the only person who takes my studying seriously, and doesn't focus on "popularity" and all that unimportant stuff. In this mental hopsital, it's either stand up for yourself and others and feel good about it, or be brutally hurt physically, emotionally, socially, and even a bit mentally. If you come to this place, you better choose. Quickly.

random post#13

1. I call people "dude" reguardless of their gender.
2. Tickle me, and I will not be held responsible for your injuries.
3. I wish I could live my dreams.
4. School: A fancy word for prison.
5. Admit it, you've searched yourself on the internet.
6. That feeling you get when you're paying for something and you can't find your money.
7. You're never too old to learn something stupid.
8. Yes, you can have all the money in the world. But you know one thing you can't have? A Deinotherium!
9. I used to cheat in the game "Seven Up" by looking at people's shoes.
10. That akward moment when you want to cough but it's dead silent.
11. Without school, it's hard to remember what day it is.

The Night It All Happened part 1

I am Anna. I am a detective at the Westwood Crime Center. One morning, one of my co-workers, Liza, came up to me and said "Anna, recently we have heard of some strange stuff going on at that old abandoned insane asylum. What was it called again?" "Mount Massive Asylum?" I said, guessing. "Yes! Tonight, we need you to go there and see what's going on at that old crazy house! We heard something about a "Project Walrider", and a doctor who gives brutal surgeries, mutating some of his patients. I heard he even kills some of them! But that's all we know. Like I said, we need you to go there at exactly 8:00 tonight! I also heard that some police went in there not long ago, and they never came out." My heart was racing and I started crying a bit I was so scared. "Oh, don't be scared. Maybe some of those crazy people will try to hunt you down or something, but I doubt you'll get that hurt!" "You're not helping, Liza!" I yelled at her. "Well, here's the map. And, the head of of the Westwood Crime Center says you'll get paid atleast $700,000 dollars!" She handed me the map. "$700,000 dollars? You sure about this, Liza?" "I am super sure!" she said with excitment. I left work at about 4:30, and sat waiting patiently until 8:00. While I was sitting patiently, I was thinking of what could happen there, and what Liza told me about that place. I was thinking "What will happen to me? Am I going to be okay? Will it be scarier than I thought? Why did they choose me to go there? Am I possibly going to...die?" I packed my detective things, and drove off to the asylum, trembling in fear.

                                                                      ~End of part 1~

Something by me#2

1. Society taught me that no matter what size I am, I well NEVER be good enough. I'll always be too skinny, too fat, too short, too tall, too this, too that.
2. There is Hell on Earth. Believe me, I've seen it far too much.
3. You cannot comprehend how much I hate myself.
4. "What is depression like?" my friend whispered. "It's like drowning. Except you see the people around you breathing."
5. Fake smiling? I'm a professional at that.
6. I am just fine. I am a daughter who hides her depression. I am a sister making good decisions. I am a friend acting like I'm fine. I am a teenager pushing her tears aside. I'm the girl talking to you. I'm the one asking you to care.
7. Happy? Me? Take a walk through my mind, roll up my sleeves. Get to know me first, then tell me how "Happy" I am.
8. People cry, not because they're weak. It's because they have been strong for too long.

It's my birthday

Today is my 13th birthday, and I am an actual TEENAGER now! My day went great! The elementary counselor gave me a bar of chocolate and a box of candy. One of the office women gave me some neon-colored pencils, and a nice little birthday card. I made a dimb mistake in P.E. class, but they cannot comprehend how many craps I don't give. I'm like "Guys. relax! It's P.E., not the Olympics!" But overall, it was a nice birthday. I am now going to experience life as a teenager. I'm not a little kid anymore. I am now going my own way.