Entry 1
Dear diary:
I’m writing to tell you Zip and I did something unspeakable today and I want you to know it wasn’t our fault.
I say hi to everyone I pass, yet none of them ever see me. Invisible is an understatement. I want them to remember me as the nice girl. Always polite, because that’s what I am - patient, never agitated. I never get mad. You know that’s right don’t you my dear diary? You know me better than anyone else.
Zip’s my best mate. Bestest pals forever. He never says a word. We never have a disagreement. He can’t afford to lose me because no one pays attention to him either. We deserve each other. We’ve spoken about this before, possibly on page 4 somewhere.
The rain fell quite heavily this morning.
I went to school today and everything went like how it always does. I got to school and sat in the chair like I always do. I waited for Zip like I always have. But today was different - today she looked at me. Leila was looking at me.
I don’t know what it is about her, but she makes me feel something that I can only describe as not nice, though the word that I desire is so much stronger. I smiled and waved at her nonetheless as we polite girls do, yet she didn’t return any of it. She looked away. It was fine. I was used to it. It should have been fine.
Diary, it wasn’t fine. I wasn’t fine. The switches that flip on and off in my head are not a hushed secret between me and you, but out there it was. If I told them I killed my aunt’s cat Oscar... - The strain was getting worse while I tried to comprehend 30 mimutes worth of work which I swore could have been sent by the devil’s spawn and watched the rain. The pouring rain, trying to mimic my tears that hadn’t had the chance to fall. The switch was threatening to shift, oh Diary, it was horrible, but I made it until lunch break.
Lunch is where it all went wrong. I saw Leila staring at me and I couldn’t comprehend why. Can she see right through me? I wave and smile, but she doesn’t wave back. My head began to feel like static on the tele, my fingers tingly and my head a little foggy. Darkness came from the corners of my eyes and ate my vision until it became one solid wall of black. She was a threat. I couldn't take it anymore.
I can’t say I know completely what happened next, but when I returned to full consciousness, Zip was holding her down. Her skin was grey. Her hair was a mess. She had red stains all over her. Her lips were drained of colour. It was awful. My hands were sticky and shaking. It couldn’t have been her blood. It had to be ketchup that had gone rancid.
I was frantic. I didn’t know what to do. I had to throw the ketchup packet away. It was the only logical thing to do so I told Zip to let her up. “Let her up!” I said. “Let her up!” my tongue felt heavy and my own saliva tasted of iron. Zip let her go, but she didn’t get up. It’s her fault for not getting up. She could have gotten up diary. I gave her the chance.
We were in the parking lot behind the skip. I thought the worst. What if they thought it was us? I told Zip to help me throw her into the skip. He looked at me as if I'd gone looney, but he did it. We tried washing our clothes in the bathroom as best we could, but the stain didn’t want to budge. We tried. We tried oh we tried diary, but the stain held fast.
I decided that it would be best for Zip and I to hop the fence and go home. I burnt my clothes and encouraged Zip to do the same with his.
I hope that you understand that it wasn’t our fault. She could have gotten up, but she didn’t. She chose not to breathe and left us to clean up her mess. I feel nothing but pity really. Why would one wish that upon themselves?
She left my pages with specks of red. I believe her. It wasn’t their fault. I had to believe her. After all I know her better than I know anyone else.
