I know, I know. I swore that I would never ever EVER get my diary to school. Truth be told, I’m not even sure it was a remotely good idea to bring my journal here [when I very well know the consequences that could befall me if a peer got their hands on this very precious book].
But when I woke this morning, I knew, deep down, that unless I confided in someone, something, I was not going to make it to tomorrow.
Actually, I was even seriously considering faking a tummy ache and staying at home, but that was before I realized that it it worked and Mum was convinced that I was really ill, I would be losing the only vote I can possibly hope for, namely; mine.
So, gathering up the courage I had left [which, needless to say, is not very much] I managed to get on with life like as if today was a completely normal day… Until now.
Crap, it’s time for our class to go vote. On the outside, I’m this super-confidant young girl who effortlessly parades along corridors requesting votes. On the inside, I am a sobbing damsel, waiting for this whole thing to be over to that I can go home…
… and explode into a million pieces.