04/30/12
I haven't really left my bed. I have no reason to want to. Angel keeps coming by with ice cream. I can't stop staring at my photoalbum. The one thing I kept when I was taken from my parents. I can't even remember if I have siblings. All I had time to get was the book of me and my parents. Of course, there was that strange boy that showed up in a few of them. I couldn't figure out who he was. Anyways, since I was taken at a early age, I had few pictures. Enough to know I was loved. With all the blank pages I filled more times filled with love. Foster siblings that I actually liked, Angel and me, Izzy, then there was the time I saw the weird boy aggain. I swear it. It looked just like him. I had my camera on him and took a picture. I filled most of the book up. Most people would have the book entirely filled, maybe a couple more. But I haven't had enough moments. I wish I hadn't screwed up. Maybe if I wasn't a pole dancer anymore, Izzy would take me back. But then, how would I keep my place? I don't have a family to ask for help from. I decided to get off my bed. My legs protested that. I walked around the room and saw what I was sub-conciously looking for. My pocket knife. I haven't cut in a while, but my arms still bared scars. Nobody notices of course. My head said not to. It wasn't smart. But I wasn't listening to my head. I was listening to that little voice that said it would make me feel better. The little voice I always listened. I was about to press the blade to my arm when I heard the door. It distracted me so I sat back down on the bed, thinking straight again. I started writing in you again while yelling to Angel(it had to be her. no one else came by) to come in. So- That's the doorbell again. I guess it's not Angel. I'll be back.
Peace
**Izzys POV**
Maybe I shouldn't have said those things. I know how badly she could and has hurt herself. She seemed to be thinking that she honestly did nothing wrong. But she admitted to making out with Angel in that coffee shop. That means something. But the hurt in her eyes when I accused her of not loving me... No. I won't think this way. Oh. I finally realised where I was walking. To her house. Someone was at her door. It was a guy. A good looking one.
She's over you. The thought went through my head before I realised it. But it was right. She wouldn't have anyone looking like that waiting at her door for any other reason. She's over me. She must be. Then she opened the door.
Oh god. Did I do that? She was a mess. No make-up(a first. she never went outside without make-up. she's very self concious), Sweatpants and a baggy sweater she kept when she was taken from her parents, her hair was a mess. As if she hadn't left her bed in a while.
I watched as his face lit up to see her. The look I probably gave her all the time. A look I saw in her eyes whenever she looked at me. In her eyes I saw recognition. She knew him. I knew it.
Then she looked across the road and our eyes met. I immediately looked down and started walking again. I'll just allow them to have eachother.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
How does Izzys POV look after the journal entry? Should I put more in? Or should I keep the rest of the story one sided? Comment so I know how you like it!!
Picture is Crystal in her depressed state.
Video is I miss you, Avril Lavigne.
Hope you enjoyed :D
-Ashee
YOU ARE READING
The Diary of a Bisexual Slut
Random""If I can't have you, no one will." I watched in horror as she brought the knife down. I couldn't help thinking that this was the end. I would have nothing after this. My beautiful baby, left alone. And Jake... Oh my Jake..." Crystal is 16. She liv...
