Willow's Diary PT 10

Day 10

I never understood human beings and the choices they make, they can do one thing at one point that they think is good, but it’s really not, It kind of makes me sick to my stomach.

They had brought me here. To make me “better” by locking me up and shutting the door to freedom. I feel like some kind of dog stuck in a cage. They pulled me to my cell; I looked at it and smiled.
Cell number 345 and I was juvenile number 22. I remember walkin' in and sittin' down just crying. I don’t know why ya know, it was odd. I like hardly ever cry, I mean really, really cry.
I wondered where Betty went. For the whole night that’s all I thought about. Where Betty went.

They thought to bring in my damn parents to see me. Talk to me ya' know make me feel “better”
“Willow” I heard her voice as clear as day, my mother. She was standing next to a tall man, my father. To me he was just a man, a shadow of a person I thought I knew, until he got a job that became more important then food.
“What!?” I remember sayin' to her and scratching my nose. I was in a suit that they gave me; my name was printed on the tag next to my shoulder.
“What were you thinking?” she asked
“I don’t know…”
“How could you not-“
“I don’t know ok, just shut the hell up! I have no damn clue okay?” I told her.
“Willow please… Tell me what you were thinkin'”
“Tell me you love me,” I answered her
“Willow…”
“That’s what I was thinkin’ ok, Tell me ya love me” I said fast
“I love you”
That’s what she said, but she didn’t really mean it.


Someone once told me if I wanted to do something right do it myself, so I started somethin', a project, a journal. I started writing it and I kind of feel sad now that I have to finish my little diary as I write these words.

My name is Willow Turbain  I am 14 years ,10 months, 2 days, 8 minutes and 13 seconds. I have dark blue hair, I am 5 foot 9 and I love to wear stripes. I love colours and I am the greediest person in the whole dang world.
I killed my best friend because I was jealous of him havin' a girl that I loved, but was always scared to admit it.
I have two parents mum and pop whom I would rather not talk about. This is all my information and this is all I’ll ever be.  



. I wanted my last words to be something cool something that says me all over it, but the only sentence or paragraph that I thought would be fit, would be the words I am writin' at this here very moment.  
   They’re not too thought through, but then I again I never think thin's through, as you can tell. I’m always going to be stuck because I know I’ll never see Jay again and I’ll never see Betty, I’ll never eat Miss. Theodore’s food again or be able to say sorry to Miss. Sharon. I’ll never ram another kid into the wall in GYM and I’ll never steal a diamond or laugh at “The where to go desk” I’ll never be up at 1:00 am in the street, and I’ll never get to read the book Tom Sawyer. I’ll never hold a leather bag and drool at Miss. Sharon’s ring, or see that red umbrella or sneak in the theater to watch that stupid movie.

It’s all because of time, ya know? Time is the one thin' that gets us, and I will not count how many seconds go by, because with every minute we grow, but with every second… we change.