Dear Diary… I Already Made a Mistake
Dear Diary,
I didn’t want a diary.
That’s the first thing you should know about me.
Because people who keep diaries are usually calm, organized, and know how to spell words like “discipline” without guessing.
I am none of those things.
My name is Daisy, and I think I was born clumsy on purpose. Like God was designing me and said, “Let’s add extra difficulty settings.”
Today was supposed to be my fresh start. New school. New classmates. New chance to behave like a normal human being.
It lasted exactly three minutes.
On my way to school, I tried to walk confidently like the girls in movies. You know, slow steps, serious face, no problems in life.
Then I tripped.
Not a small trip.
A full-body betrayal.
I landed in front of a very serious-looking woman who I later found out was my new principal.
She looked at me like she was already tired of my existence.
And I hadn’t even introduced myself.
Someone behind me whispered, “That’s the new girl.”
Great.
First impression: completed.
Level: disaster.
When I finally got to my classroom, I tried to act normal. I smiled. I nodded. I sat down carefully like I was handling fragile glass.
Then my chair made a sound.
A very loud, embarrassing sound.
Everyone turned.
I didn’t even do anything this time. That’s what hurts the most.
School just… happens to me.
Anyway, Diary, I feel like this year is going to be a long one.
But don’t worry.
If I survive it, I’ll write everything down.
If I don’t… well, at least you’ll know the story.
— Daisy
