Missing Diary

Prologue

Prologue

Dear diary,

Oh this is bullshit. You're not dear to me at all. Ok, maybe you are a bit, 'cause you're the only thing I can talk to freely, without hesitating and worrying that I'll be judged. But this is the frickin problem, you're the ONLY thing I can talk to freely and vent out to. I mean, who else can I tell all my personal secrets? Who else can I trust? All my friends are dipshits.

Alright, I'm being a little mean here. My friends are nice but most of them are fake-os! If they get to know the real me, I'll be shipped back off to loserville before I can even blink, and I'm never letting that happen, even if it means I have to suffer here too. At least by being popular I gain respect, and a little hatred too, of course. Having loads of friends who don't truly care about you is better than being a loser with no friends. Heck, I used to get bullied too! Oh why am I talking about this again? I thought I was over it...

Anyways, I NEED to write down what happened today between me and Josh! So at first I didn't really like him but these days he's getting so romantic, I'm so not regretting being his girlfriend! I think I'm really starting to like hi-

"Emily! Where is the bloody remote?!" My mom screamed from the sitting room. I glanced at the clock and saw it was time for her favorite show, desperate housewives. And as usual, she can't find the T.V remote.

"I'm coming! Gimme a sec," I shouted loud enough for her to hear me, while I looked for the key to lock my diary.

"If you're not down in five seconds you're grounded!" She replied back.

I groaned annoyed, my mom was really taking advantage of the term 'grounded'. I shoved my diary under the comforter and ran downstairs to help my mom find the remote. This time it was on the kitchen counter. My mom has such creative places to leave the remote, I think sarcastically.

I leave my mom glued to the television and head back up upstairs re-tying my ash blonde hair into a messy bun. I'm feeling pretty tired and decide I'll just go to sleep, I can always continue writing about Josh the next day. I sit cross- legged on my bed and pull the comforter from over my diary. But then it's not there.

I throw the entire colorful comforter to the floor and look desperately around my bed to see if the diary is at another place, but it's not. I check all around the bed, even under it, but neither my diary, key or lock is to be seen.

I press my palm to my fore-head and sit back on my bed, thinking hard about where my diary could be. A small piece of paper taped on my bed-sheet grabs my attention and I lean forwards to have a proper look at what it says. My brown eyes widen with pure shock when I read it,

'Revenge truly is a bitch, and I'm going to make sure it bites you really hard...'

I turn around and look at the window, it's wide open. My diary was obviously stolen and there was nothing I could do about it now.

I don't think I've ever hyperventilated as much as I am right now. Because I know one thing for sure, I am so, so screwed.