The Diary

September 9th, 2002

Dear Diary,

Last year we learned how to write. I'm doing pretty good the teacher says but I still get confused. I like to write in you diary but people are starting to make fun of me for bringing you around with me everywhere. Mom told me to just keep you home but I don't want my brother to steal you. He has done it before. People don't understand that when I write in you I forget why I was afraid, or why I was nervous. Life is like one big story and I get scared sometimes that someone will write the wrong thing. No body understands that i use you diary to keep me company. I don't have very many friends right now. I like to make up stories too. Instead of fighting with a bully, in you I can fight a dragon. That seems more adventurous, more fun. Instead of my brother being mean to me, in you I can take down a troll. It's not much different but it is in my eyes diary. You're not mean to me diary, you don't even talk. But with a simple story of mine I could make you talk. You could be my real life friend to talk to. That would be cool.

June 9th, 2013

Danielle read the last lines of the journal entry she wrote when she was just a little girl. Things were so much different now, and so much the same. She still didn't have very many friends, but she didn't care anymore. The friends she had were enough. It didn't really seem to matter anymore if people liked her or not. She was leaving, they were leaving. She doesn't need her diary to keep her company anymore. Her thoughts can do that.

"Danielle time to go or we'll be late," Danielle's mother called up the stairs.

It was time to go. Didn't want to be late for her own graduation. All those years of school leading up to this one moment of history. Another chapter. Another story.

There was one thing the Danielle from the Diary entry had in common with the present Danielle. She still loved to write stories. That's were her life was taking her even. She still fought dragons and trolls. She felt like she always would, too.