It Started With A Diary

Prolog

Vaati pov.

I carefully go to my locker watching as the owner of the locker above me is making out so it's a bit of a fight to keep it open enough to put away my book and get my journal. I try to get my lunch kit but the whorseman's leg doesn't allow it. I groan knowing I won't be eating at all today. I go down to the field and climb into the tree. I open my old journal and start writing.

My dad isn't exactly what I'd call stable, after my brother and I tried running away, no idea where my brother ended up, but the cops found me and took me back. I tried to tell them about how he was drunk all the time and yelling but no one listened no one cared. They believed him, because he was a cop, and I was a child. He got so much worse after that. I don't dare try again after that.

It did teach me one thing, people don't care. You try to help yourself and you earn the title of attention seeker. People didn't care that I'm always hungry, nor did they care when I was little and my brother and I were in the same boat as children. They didn't care when I came to school the day after covered in bruises. They still don't.

I watch how people have created their own worlds, their own stories and their own little problems. They don't have room for me, this world doesn't have room for me. It doesn't matter that I struggle to survive, and have nothing but diminishing pages to talk to. I'm not exactly given money to get these journals so I have to steal them. I do what I need to, to survive.

"The pages are full... Might as well work on my other journal..." I open it looking at the drawing I made of the guy currently fighting the poor bastard that tried talking to his ex girlfriend. Ganondorf. He's the school's bully the kind of guy who would shove and lock me in a locker over the weekend. The kind of guy who would forcefully cut my hair the second he found out how much it meant to me. The guy I've had a crush on for years. Because my life isn't hard enough as it is.