The Diary Project (ASOUE)

28: The Catastrophe Project

I needed my diary. But, once again, I couldn't find it. I scurried around the storage closet, fully aware of how loud it was in the corridor outside, meaning that class was about to start. But this was important. I was sure that I'd figured out Marlene's plan and I wanted to write down the evidence that I'd found.

I had been following Marlene around for a couple of days, not in a creepy way, just in a casual way. So if she went to the library, I would turn up there too. That sort of thing. It wasn't that enjoyable being on edge the entire time but it did pay off. Yesterday evening when Marlene left the auditorium, she diverted into the school instead of going back to her dorm room, which was obviously suspicious. So I followed her and she ended up dropping a couple of ripped up papers. I stayed up last night trying to understand them and piece them back together, when it became apparent that they were more diary entries. Obviously it's good that Marlene dropped them because now she can't expose them to the world, which I suspect she will do soon. I had a feeling before that she might turn on Carmelita but now I have more proof. I just wanted to find my diary so I could cross reference these new entries with the one I wrote down before. That way, I can either take them to Marlene and show her that I know what she's up to, or I can attempt to warn Carmelita of what's about to happen. But now, of course, my diary is missing when I need it the most.

Finally, I spy it poking out from under a box of pencils, which isn't where I left it but that fact is irrelevant to me right now. Now I need to get to class. I throw my diary into my bag and dash out into the hallway. It's busy and I have to push my way through a couple of crowds of people. What's everyone doing? Why is no one in their classrooms yet?

As I nudge past someone else, I hear a small gasp and suddenly everyone's looking at me, eyes wide, whispering as if their lives depended on it. It's a terrifying thing, having hundreds of eyes on you, so I instinctively turned around, hoping to see the real person everyone was staring at. But no. There was no one else. Just more whispers and snickers and eyes.

I pushed through a group of people, trying to get to my class or to someone who knew what was going on. I tugged at my shirt, my skirt, my hair, wondering if in my rush I had tucked something in the wrong place or put something on inside out or anything like that. I was desperate to find something out of place so I could sort it out and make everything stop. But my uniform was fine, my hair was maybe a bit unruly but it was brushed all the same. I couldn't find what people were staring at. Unless they weren't staring at something I was wearing and they were just staring at me instead.

It was only when I was rushing through the corridors, nudging past people, that I realised what was on the walls. Dozens of bits of paper were stuck to lockers, stapled to notice boards and were being passed between groups of students who would all in turn, divert their attention to me after they were done reading. But what were they reading? All at once, realisation hit me. My diary had been going missing and now there was paper everywhere, just like when Carmelita exposed Marlene and the poor girl before her. I had joked about who would be the third, but now I realised the third was me. I ripped a sheet off the wall and quickly skimmed through it, desperate to know what entry Carmelita had stolen and broadcast for the entire school. It was only a few days ago that I admitted my feelings for Klaus in there and I felt my heart drop to my stomach as I imagined everyone reading those words that were only meant for my eyes. But as I was skimming, I realised something else. This wasn't an entry from my diary at all. 

Dear diary, I've been hanging out with him again. He's really nice to me and I'm nice to him back because I'm the kindest girl in the school. I'm also the prettiest, which is why he's in love with me. 

This was the entry I'd found by the photocopier. But why was everyone staring at me and not Carmelita? And then I spied something that changed everything.My name had been written at the bottom. Which meant that instead of this sounding like Carmelita bad mouthing Bobby, it now seemed like I was being horrible about Klaus. After all, everyone knew we hung out together, it's not like they would think I was talking about anyone else. I frowned, tearing down as many entries as I could. People around me started laughing as I struggled, some of them taking the entries down for me and then running off with them so I couldn't throw all of them away. As I glanced around at the ever watching eyes I fought back the reflex of telling everyone that I hadn't written it, that there had been a mix up and I wasn't actually such a bad person after all. But it was no use. Carmelita ran this school and if she wanted everyone to think this about me, they would, even if I could show them evidence that this entry didn't come from my diary. It was no use trying.But then I remembered something. What would Duncan think? And Violet? And more importantly, what about Klaus? Quickly I took the few entries I'd managed to grab and shoved them in the bin before running through the corridor in the hopes that I would find him. And I did. 

He was around the corner, curiously looking at the paper that Marlene or Carmelita or both had taken the liberty in sticking up. As I approached, he tore it down and scrunched in up and I had a moment of hope where I thought he didn't believe it. That he would see through the lies and realise that I'd been set up. But then he looked up at me, anger painted across his face before he turned in the opposite direction and stormed away. 

"Klaus!" I called, desperate for him to listen to me, "Klaus wait!"

But it was no use. The last bell sounded and students shifted to get to class and Klaus, the only one going in the opposite direction, was swallowed up by the crowd. I fought the urge to cry and pushed through everyone in an attempt to catch up to him, tearing down forged entries as I went. There had to be a way I could convince him that those awful words weren't mine.