Misty Eyes.

Chapter Two

Dear Diary - December 29th, 2016,

I got some cool stuff for Christmas. Grandma got me a doll. She has dark hair and we have matching outfits. I don't really play with dolls anymore, but I didn't want Grandma to be sad, so I'm going to like it.

I also got some cool art stuff from Gruncle Richard. He told me that he wants me to do what I like. Apparently he saw me doodling on one of Grandma's newspapers, and he thinks I'm good at it. I'm not, but if he thinks I am, I'll keep doing it.

Mommy and Daddy got me some clothes. They got me some neat clothes, actually. A couple pairs of leggings with patterns on them, some sweaters, some bracelets, and my favorite present, a pair of knock-off Uggs. I'll pretend I don't know what a knock-off is for now.

I love Uggs. I always put my dolls in boots, especially the brown ones with the fluffy white poof inside of them. I love those boots.

I wish I owned a pair.

Oh wait, I do now!! Awesome sauce.

I also got some gifts I don't like. Grandma Susan got me a stuffed animal that resembles my dog, Loki, that passed away last year. I don't want to be reminded of him, so I don't understand why she got it for me. She knows how upset I was.

Or maybe she doesn't. Maybe I'm being selfish by thinking that. I should be grateful she got me something. There are a lot of kids in the world who don't have anything, or don't have family at all. I'm being selfish, that's it.

I had a good Christmas this year. I hope next year is a good year, too.

I'll update you tomorrow, diary.

The doll Grandma got me sits across from me on my dresser. Everyone left yesterday. I hadn't had time to update my diary until just now. I was starting to wonder if it would be mad at me.

I'm going to have to get a new diary soon. It's almost full. But if Mommy finds out I need a new one, she might get curious and want to read what I've written, and I can't let her do that. She would think I'm crazy. And maybe I am. I don't really want to know if I am or not though.

I feel so stupid even thinking about it. I'm nine years old. I shouldn't even know the word crazy. But that's what the people at school call me. They tell me I'm insane. They tell me that I'm weird, and crazy.

It started last year. I haven't told mommy. I knew she'd be mad.

I think if I just wear these leggings and Ugg knock-off's they'll like me a little better. During computer lab I looked up how to make friends, and it told me that if you try to find people with common interests to you then you'll become friends easily.

Sadly, nobody likes the same things as me. I don't know many girls who keep diaries for more than a few days or listen to the same music as me, or like animations. And kids only think my art is cool when there's a project where it's required.

And I know they don't play with dolls anymore, that's so first grade. (I heard that phrase at lunch the other day.) I don't really play with dolls though, so I think I'm safe from that category.

I wonder if any of them like headbands? I saw a cute pearl cat headband at Claire's the other day. I asked Mommy to buy it for me, but she said no. Maybe I can convince her if I saw all the girls at school are wearing them.

They aren't, but I think it'll help me make friends.