Dear Diary (Uncompleted)

Entry 1: Stupid Jocks

Dear Diary,

I barely got any sleep because of that asshole next door. He was throwing pebbles at my window and it was annoying as hell.

When I went out to tell him to stop, he asked if he could come into my room. What's his problem???

Today's the second day of school, and I have a feeling that I'm going to get my classes wrong.

Alright, I have to go to school.

~~~

I started my way out of the door after saying my 'Goodbyes' to mom.

I've gotten used to calling her "mom" now. No, she's not my actual mother. I was adopted by an adorable Korean couple when I was 8 after my parents died. It's been hard excepting my new family, but I warmed up to them after a few years.

She's a stay-at-home mom while dad works his ass off everyday. It's worth it though. He's one of the best employees at his company and gets paid a lot.

I scowled when I saw our neighbor boy walking out of his house too.

He was wearing a tank-top that had "FML" printed onto the material. It was then that I realized that he had a huge scar on his right bicep, right below his shoulder.

Damn. He looks attractive in a tank-top. I hate it.

I walked down the sidewalk faster, not wanting him to get a chance to talk to me.

I successfully walked to school without any conversation, but I could still feel his gaze on me. Which made me super tense and awkward if anyone startled me.

The day was a normal school day. Horny boys who wouldn't stop staring, arriving late to certain classes because of the new school year schedules, and weird teachers who couldn't care less about their jobs.

But finally, lunch time arrived.

However, it was odd to see my neighbor being bullied.

The whole day, I noticed girls gawking at his gorgeous face, so I guess the guys got jealous. I saw them push him against the lockers and he fell onto the floor, his papers scattered everywhere. "Odd eyes! Odd eyes!" They screamed in his face.

Stupid jocks.

I don't like this kid either, but bullying is unexceptional.

I stomped over there when I saw one of the jocks grab his shirt by the collar and raise his fist in the air.

Before he swung a punch, I put my hand on both of their chests and pushed them away from eachother. I stood in front of the boy who was still on the floor and staring in awe.

And here I thought I was staying away from boys this year.

"What the hell is wrong with you? What did this kid do to you that makes you think that he deserves this?" I shouted at him.

"I-I'm sorry. I won't do it again." The jock's friends ran away, and the main one tried doing the same. I think his name was Brandon.

"No no. I want you to explain what gave you the right to pick on him." I growled, grabbing his biceps and digging my nails into him.

"Ah." He flinched. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Not good enough." I squeezed harder.

Then people crowded around.

"He's a freak! Look at him! It's not normal!"

"Well, you have an abnormally large nose, but nobody says anything. You don't get bullied for it. Apologize to him, and I'll let you go." I threatened.