diary of a dead girl

8/3/2019 Diary of a Dead Girl

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Diary of a Dead Girl

© Emma Falcone, 2011



Dedicated to my Dad Thanks to the wattpad user NamesInTheSky for the amazing

cover- she’s amazing x 100! The lyrics in the post script of the May 13 th entry are Taylor

Swift, White Horse- no copyright infringement intended.

May 9th,

Today was my birthday. My older sister, Clarissa (Yeah, our names arestupid and rhyming.) gave me this diary.

It's nice enough, red leather cover, gold buckle. Too bad I won't bearound long enough to fill it.



It seems so old fashioned, keeping a diary, when most of my friendskeep online blogs, but when I’m done with this diary- done with life- inone week, I’ll burn it.

And you can't burn a blog.

Anything you put on a blog is there forever.

I am dubbing you Claude, diary, after my baby brother who almost was.

And, Claude, I shall tell you the six events that have led me in thedecision to join my baby brother in heaven.

Although, I’ll probably go to 'the-other-place' so I won't even meet Claude in the after-life.

Oh well.

I find it mildly surprising that in one week, this diary I am writing willbe a

Diary of a Dead Girl

Dear Diary,

May 10th,



So, Claude, I haven't introduced myself to you yet.

I'm Marissa Katherine Noelle Walkers; I’m named Katherine and Noelleafter my grandmothers, Katherine on my mother's side, and Noelle onmy father's side.

I love rocky road ice cream, cold days, and the smell of gasoline.

My favorite color is Brown. It's a warm, sincere color to me. I liked Green before, but now it's just too cheerful.

The most amazing thing that could happen to me was if my hand took on its own personality and started talking to me- I’d never be lonely! And the second most amazing thing would be to win the lottery.

I'm the sort of person who cries when I get a scrape, so what drove me

to the choice I’ve made?

Six reasons.

I have given myself six days to live, so I shall tell you those reasons inthe next six days.

But today, let's not dwell on those sad things, let's... I don't know... i'lltell you about my friends.

Dani Perrot - my best friend since First Grade, when Adam Lerk wasbullying me, so she punched him in the nose, then stepped back so theblood wouldn't get on her favorite clothes: a super girly pink dress.She's half girly-girl, half hardcore tomboy- it's confusing to hang out with her sometimes, but she's the most amazing friend ever.

Sere Sullivan - the 'outcast' in school, shy and secretive, who becamethe outcast by choice. Me and Dani seem to be the only friends shehas, even though she could get more. Super bubbly and insane onceshe warms up to you.

Pierre Walkers - my older brother (My parents seemed to be on afrench kick when they named him and Claude) I know it's odd to have your older brother be a friend, but we've grown close since Claude.

Today me and Pierre rode our bikes, and I threw my hands out, and closed my eyes, concentrating only on pedaling, and it felt like I wasflying! Until I flew right into the pond...



I have been thinking about how many things i'll have to say bye to,Pierre, Mother, F-

I've gotta go, write more later.

May 11th

Dear Diary,



Sorry I stopped in the middle of the entry last time- Pierre came in, and I really did not want him to see my diary, I especially do not want himto see what I am planning.

For some reason, i've been thinking a lot about Claude's birth... if you

call it that..

One day, when I was four, my mother explained to me how I was goingto have a little brother! She seriously said it so happily that I needed toadd that exclamation mark.

I told her I was happy for her, but I thought, I do not want a brother! Idon't want to share my toys! I do not want a brother! I was so selfish. Iwas crying for weeks when I heard that Claude was dead at birth, and Iwondered if god was listening to my thoughts at that moment, and decided to give me what i've wanted.

Anyways, ten months later, my mom was crying. All I knew in my five- year-old mind was that she had gone to the 'ospital to get me a newlittle brother.

I climbed onto her lap, and asked her where my brother was, I wanted someone to watch The Muppets with me.

She held me, and told me how my little brother was up in heaven (Ihad learned Claude's name later from Pierre, who also told me howClaude was born dead), with Grammy and Gramps.

I asked if I could go to.

Not the right thing to ask a mother who's just lost a baby.

She went hysterical, and for some reason made me promise never toever leave her.

"I promise," I had promised.

I am going to break my promise in five days.

I am a lousy promise-keeper, just like I was a lousy big sister.

While we are on the lousy thought-train, let me tell you about my lousy looks.



I have thick hair the color of sewer-water(at least, I imagine it to be, Ihave never seen sewer-water) and moss-green eyes. So sewer and moss. God must really want me to be smelly, gross and mouldy.

Anyways, Claudie(If Claude had lived, I think I would have liked to call

him that- especially when his friends were around, to emberass him..) Itold you I would tell you my reasons, so here is reason one.

1-

This all happened about three weeks ago, at a party thrown by somecool-kid, trying to get even cooler by showing off his huge backyard inground pool, literal mansion, etc.

The lights were dark, by request of the snogging couples occupyingevery couch, so with my hair pulled back in a pink sparkly beret, I was

unanimous.

The two girls meanly gossiping about me surely didn't reconize me. Although if they did have, they most likely would not have stopped.

mean girl uno: "I'm Marrisa Walkers, i'm so much better than all of you,the Princes of Oldendale high!" *insert that stupid, high giggle that allthose mean girls seemed to make.

mean girl dos: "I know! Did you hear how she used Jack Parker?Theonly thing she is queen of is queen of" *insert word that rhymes with

witches here.

At this point, they walked away, giggling over their punch cups, and Iwas left there, with my mouth hanging open.

I have never been popular- I couldn't care less! Yeah, I did date Jack Parker, A.K.A. hottest and coolest guy in our school, but that was it.

That just made me feel horrible, for some reason, and i've cried maybethree times in my life, but that time I started crying so hard all thesnogging couples stopped snogging to hand me tissues.

Thank god I was unanimous.

Needless to say, I ran out of the party a few minutes later.

So, the stupid mean girls who I have done nothing to, have managed



to, somehow, in some weird way, make me feel worthless, like no oneliked me and could care less if I did... what i'm planning to do.

That just was a huge emotional blow.

And the two mean girls had the nerve to ask me for help on their Physic's (the one subject I excell at) homework the next day at school.

I offered to do their homework for them- and got all the answers wrongon purpose.

Ahh, revenge is sweet. Last I heard, they are failing physic's- thehomework counted for 60% of your final grade, and they were mostly failing already.

And reason two is a few days later, when my supposed boyfriend turns

against me and betrays me. (Okay, maybe betray is a strong word, but that is what it felt like at the time!)

Anyways, T.T.F.N. ta-ta-for-now, Claude!

I've gotta go down to my birthday party i've thrown for my friends, thedoorbell just rang, so someone must be here!

Bye!

-M.W.



May 12th

Hello Claudie!

Yuppity-yup, i'm in a good mood today- actually, i'm on a sugar rush.

I just had three cupcakes so i'm h-y-p-e-r!

Don't you love squirrels? I love squirrels! I also love pudding! Squirrelslove pudding too, I think!

It feels odd to be writing happy things in my 'Suicide Diary' but it's thehyperness!

Got to go!

Fifty minutes later

Whew, the hyperness has worn off. Thank god! Anyways, I can get down to gloomy business.

So i'm on reason 2.

2.

Jack Parker - Jock, but doesn't act like it, if he didn't play football he'd be not a jock, not a nerd, not an outcast- one of those rare actual in-between guys, with brown hair that falls into his eyes in a super-cute

way, and brown eyes the color of warm melted chocolate.

He is - was - my boyfriend of two years.

Anyways, remember mean girls uno and dos? (Their names areactually Clara and Mikayla, in case you wondered) The ones who said Iused Jack? I didn't! Sure- he made me popular, but like i've said before,



I don't care about popularity! Anyways, Jack dumped ME, not the other way around.

It happened last a few days after the party, I was wearing his jacket over mine since I was so cold.

Him: "Hey, Marissa, I... er... wanna tell you.... er..... something...." Iinstantly interperted his akwardness as grief, his mother was 10months pregnant last time i'd seen her- had his new baby brother or sister died like Claude?

Me:"What's wrong?" I asked, hoping he'd say anything but what I had just thought. I didn't know yet there was something just as worse ashis new sibling being dead- him breaking up with me.

Him: "Er... Marissa... we're... er.... done.... Mikayla.... and me are...

are.... dating."

I coughed, my throat tight. Mikayla, the mean girl!

I was not going to be the wimpy girl who cried and begged. I was not going to beg.

I ran away from him, determined to get home before the rain camedown.

Needless to say, I forgot to give him back his jacket, which is where

reason three - involving Mikayla- comes in.

But i'm tired. I'll write about the jacket tomorrow.



May 13th,

Today I was wondering why I even write in this diary, Claude, I mean,who'll ever read it? It's sort of pointless, chronicling my life, well, thelast week of it, when it's all in my head, so I don't need to write it downto look back on it or anything.

But then again, a quote I made up in fifth grade, and i've lived by, thegreatest things result from stupid reasons. Although it can also be the

other way around, stupid things result from great reasons.

It'll feel sort of wrong to destroy you diary, it'll feel sort of likemurdering Claude- but it had to be done. I don't want anyone readingmy private thoughts. Especially not my family.

Anyhow, it's time for reason three(It's unwise to waste time when youonly have about 100 hours left to live.)

3.

So. I told you the reason was about the jacket, which is true.

Although it's more about the jacket packet.

Or, even more specifically, what was inside the jacket pocket.

Because what was inside the jacket pocket was a note, in straight,narrow script, which I knew all too well. And a response in curly, girly



script, then another response from Jack. I'll paste the note in here. (By the way, Mark's Jack's best friend.Here's the note)-

No- not a boyfriend. A brother. Well, was a brother. Claude died rightaround when he was born. The umbulical cord strangled him or

something. So she wasn't cheeting.

Well, how many people know about the brother?

Uh... I do, and a few of her friends. And I think I mentioned it to Markonce. But other than that, I don't think anyone does.

See? Then the plan's simple. She was cheeting on you with Claude...Claude... Claude Smith. An exchange student from France who goes toanother school. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Me, Mellissa, again. That's all the note there is- Jack must have tucked it in his jacket pocket, then forgot about it.

So he and Mikayla spread around the rumor I was cheating around Jack with a foreign exchange student named Claude Smith. God, I didn't think Jack would stoop that low. The rumor alienated me from all of my friends except Dani and Sere, even though my other friends 'claimed'they didn't care about popularity(Well, there were the cheerleaderswho befriended me when I was Jack's girlfriend- they left right after Iwas dumped though, and never said they didn't care about popularity-it was obvious they did), they left me when the rumor got well-known.

So, just with three things, I became a cheating nobody without any friends except two.

1. Jack dumps me for Mikayla.

2. Mikayla tells everyone I used Jack for popularity then dumped him.

3. Mikayla and Jack tell everyone I was cheating on Jack, Good ole Jack,with the brown hair, the award-winning easy smile, the awesomequarterback, against Melody-or-something Walkers, who has no

friends, and is a nobody. It took people about two seconds to maketheir choice, and that was for the most indecisive. Now, no one except the loyal two even nodded at me while I was in the hallway.

Jake apologized once. But I ignored him. I was done with him. If hewanted to be a jerk, I wasn't going to let him bring me down too.

Now i'm depressed from wrting the depressing events of my life.



See you... well, write in you, tomorrow.

-Mikayla

P.S.

A Taylor Swift song was on the radio yesterday, and I was like, that's abit like Jake.

Let me write down a few lyrics of it I liked, i'm pretty sure this is howthey go.

Say you're sorry That face of an angelComes out just when you need it to As I paced back and forth all this time

Cause I honestly believed in youHolding onThe days drag onStupid girl,I should have known, I should have known

Baby I was naive,Got lost in your eyes And never really had a chanceMy mistake, I didn't know to be in loveYou had to fight to have the upper hand

I had so many dreams About you and meHappy endings

And there you are on your knees,Begging for forgiveness, begging for me Just like I always wanted but I'm so sorry

Cause I'm not your princess, this ain't a fairytale,I'm gonna find someone someday who might actually treat me wellThis is a big world, that was a small town

There in my rear view mirror disappearing now And it's too late for you and your white horseNow it's too late for you and your white horse to catch me now



May 14th,

Dear Diary,

Did you know that Hitler first wanted to be an artist, but wasn’t

talented enough? In a way, the people who told him he wasn’t talented enough caused WW2. If he had just been an artist, or even died at birth (Not that I wish he did. I couldn’t wish that on anyone) History would be changed? Thousands of lives would be saved? A war would be prevented?

It’s crazy how just one person can change so many lives forever.

I wonder if I, my suicide story, will change anyone’s life?

If it’ll be published in the paper, Girl commits suicide a week after her

15th birthday, if anyone will be sad for me, or if I’ll just fade into thewoodwork, forgotten?

I feel like the one thing that saves most people who want to commit suicide but stop at the last minute is dreams.

For example, my broher Pierre would never commit suicide- even if hestopped being happy, he’d still have his dream of being a writer(Same



dream as me- odd)- and he’ll be a writer, I’m sure, the next Shakespeare(although without as many arts and thou’s)

Anyways, I told you I’d tell you about reason four today, and so I will.

4.

Who could ever believe that one so close to me could cause so muchdamage?

Remember how I talked about the cheerleaders who befriended mewhile I was Jake’s boyfriend, then left right after he dumped me?

Well, one was named Sara, and we actually got a bit close. Like, closefor school friends, like if-i-was-having-a-sleepover-and-invited-anyone-i-was-friendly-with-and-had-an-invation-left-over-I’d-give-it-to-you

kinda friends. (She left with everyone else though, of course)

Well, Mikayla’s cheer captain, and convinced Sara to take my diary from my bookbag (not you, diary, my diary before you) Which would have been fine, except I kept all my passwords and usernames to allthe sites I use on the internet in there.

Even, stupidly, my facebook.

Well, needles to say, Mikayla hacked it, and all the other websites I’ma member off, sent mean messages to all my friends with plenty of

curses, so rough they reminded me of a bike gang having an insult battle, whom she then deleted, then deleted my blog. And all my other accounts.

Well, this may not seem like a lot to you, but I’m a nerd so I’m big ononline friendships- plus, she deleted my wattpad account, which I post my stories on, and I don’t have copies of the stories I post- so all my stories were gone.

I was a hated online-nobody, all my stories were gone, and in real life Iwas a nobody, and all except my two friends were gone.

So double crappy life.

Gonna go now. Write tomorrow.

-Mellissa



May 15th,

Wow. I’m on reason 5. Which means I have two days left to live. My dad was watching the weather today, and it showed ahead to the 17th,and said it’ll be rainy and stormy- suckish day to die. Why couldn’t there at least be a blizzard? Or sun?

Stupid weather.

I realized I haven’t mentioned Clarissa much- except for in the first

entry.

Well, she’s reason number 5. Family should always be forgiven, right?Well not when it comes to my stories.

I feel like any writer goes through, and I do especially, a serious of paranoia whenever they let their family/friends read a story they’ve



wrote. For me, I actually break into a nervous sweat and start having amental battle about, should I really have showed it to them? Really?

Well I was going through this after I gave a manuscript of a so-far unnamed short story to Clarissa.

When she was done reading, she set it down, and I snatched it up,determined not to let her read it again- my ‘I shouldn’t have shownher’ side of the battle won.

I asked, “Well?”

And she said,

“It was okay.”

“O….o..kay?” I asked.

“Not bad- but not necessarily good- mediocre. But some people just don’t have it. Why don’t you try something else? An artist or something?” and Clarissa got up, and went to her room, leaving mefeeling like in a cartoon, when a character just deflates like a popped balloon.

My heart fell to my stomach.

I wanted my family’s approval so badly, I craved it, and Clarissa had

said it wasn’t good. It may be no big deal to her, but to me, it put mein the depths of despair.

I couldn’t believe it.

My heart was broken.

I wished I could die on the spot.

Which was when I first thought of suicide.

Bye for now.

-M.



I got a call, the caller ID said ‘Story Sentral’ a magazine I had sent astory into four weeks ago, publishing short stories by kids aged 8-14 intheir magazine.

“Hi?” I asked, picking up the phone.

“Mellissa Walkers?” A female voice asked.

“Speaking. May I help you?”

“We have decided to publish your story- shall we send the check to theaddress you sent us the story from?” I put the phone away from my ear, covered it, then squealed for asecond- the check was 50 dollars! All for a story that took me 20minutes to write!

“Yes! Oh gosh, thanks, it’s like a birthday present- just 6 days late!” Isaid.

“Your fourteenth?” The lady asked, getting an odd tone in her voice.

“Fifteenth.” I corrected.

“I’m sorry- we can only publish from ages 8-14. Goodbye.” And I heard the beep that meant she’d hung up.

My mouth dropped open.

Because of six lousy days my story wasn’t getting published? But i’d sent it in when I was 14!

I just couldn’t believe it- after all, Clarissa had just said my story wasn’t good the day before I was rejected yet again- but this time for my age? A number?

It was impossible- but it had happened.

I felt that now familiar feeling, where your heart sunk- it now had a

name.

Rejection.

Goodbye for now. See you tomorrow.

-M.W.



May 17th,

Wow. The big day.

Goodbye, diary.

Goodbye, Pierre,

Goodbye, Clarissa,

Goodbye, Mom and dad,

Hello, Claude,

Hello, Grandpa.

I’m going to be dead. In four hours.

I have it planned- since Pierre will be at school, and mom and dad willbe at work, I’ll play hooky- and go to the river, a street or two from our house (Thank god there’s no ice) and just simply jump in. Painlessly.Done forever. Free.

And reason 7?

If I don’t do it now, I’ll just have seven reason’s later- I think I’m one of those people who will just end up commiting suicide. One way or

another.

Goodbye forever, diary.

I’m going to go watch ‘It’s a wonderful life’ then write my suicide note.

Goodbye forever.

Mellissa Katherine Noelle Walkers

diary of a dead girl

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