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Misplaced Diary

Teen years over

By Shelby Hagood Published 6 months ago 3 min read

Written in every day, I hold the memories of teen years. I was referenced to remember, but now she does not want to page into the past. I sit here on the dusty shelf waiting day by day for when she will want to reminisce again. Let me show you what happened in English class that one day reading Of Mice and Men. Wasn’t that when you gained your first love for reading?

How about the Just Dance parties in gym class? How great it was that you were able to play a video game for excercise. Then later someone snuck in the Mario Kart game and you found a way to move the wheel extra when the gym teacher walked by so it still counted as an exercise game.

She writes in a new diary and I am jealous. Why does she not want to read about these times? Is it because it will make her cringe while reading what she was concerned about back then. Her old crushes too embarrassing? What about first dates? The first time the movies wasn’t just with a group of friends, but a potential interest. Isn’t that spectacular?

What about all of the good times? The trips to the amusement park. Riding the huge roller coaster for the first time with the wind whipping hair around. What about the mall? So what if it was with people you don’t talk to anymore? Doesn’t she want to remember how Victoria’s Secret was so magically taboo. Giggling while tiptoeing though the store and hiding the little pink bag into a larger JCPenny bag.

What about the arcade? The dance dance revolution, the ski ball, and ticket prizes. Showing off how many points you could get before the stores started to close. One day you collected so many tickets, it was enough for that glitter lava lamp that you threw out after it finally stopped working. All in between running into the the ice cream store. Cooling down after spending hours buying tokens was a great treat. Sampling every flavor even though you already knew what they all taste like by heart.

How about when you ran from your school mates in the haunted corn maze at the Halloween bash? Afterwards you got a candy apple and walked into the fortune teller booth for a reading. Isn't it all just silly now because of how the new diary knows those fortunes never came true? Or did they? I remember teen angst. You smile daily at the new diary now.

You have grown and I am proud. It’s great, but wouldn’t I still mean something to you? I represent how you have come to be. I am holding your truth. The world of teen years that led to now. Maybe you can cherish me as much as other stories you hold dear. As you finally move out of your childhood home. Maybe you will now find me. Yes, you see me and give me a read.

Your face turns down and you rip me to shreds to be tossed. My pages leak black ink dripping while I cry. Why was it so important you wrote these thoughts back then just for me to end up in a trash bag? Why do you not want to keep me and face these times?

I thought they were magical, but you see them as terrible. My fate becoming little shreds of paper that disintegrate into the ground forever gone. Names of people you want to forget and mistakes made torn away as you walk into your new life and home.

Short Story

About the Creator

Shelby Hagood

Warner Bros and Disney 💕

Cat lover 🐱

Love fancy chocolate 🍫

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Reader insights

Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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  1. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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    Shelby Hagood Written by Shelby Hagood

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