Diary Of An Author - 1
Diary Of An Author - 15 mins 232 5 mins 232
Where to begin. My name is Emily. I love writing, theater, music, editing, reading, and drawing. I've been a theater kid for as long as I can remember. I have been through a lot the past few years and I'm here to share my story. Let's begin when everything went down hill.
During this time, I just started sixth grade. What happened was that my teachers would tell our parents the opposite of what they would tell us. For example, they would say homework is due on Friday to us and tell our parents homework is due on Wednesday. It took my family and I many months before figuring this out. We tried to talk to the teachers, but they denied it. You see, by lying to us, the students, this caused more than half of the class to have missing assignments. Every month we had a brutal book report that had to be perfect in every way shape and form, one mistake and they would make you retake it. If you forgot to turn in your spelling test, they would make you write numbers on a piece of paper, in order until class ended. If you missed assignments, you had to write on paper, "I will not miss any more assignments." a hundred times. If you missed an assignment you had to stay in during your breaks, or the teacher would get mad at you in front of the entire class. If you made a single mistake on a perfect paragraph, they would make you rewrite it even if you didn't add a comma in one spot. Before we found out they were telling us two different things, most of us would get punished by our parents thinking that it was our fault for turning things in late and our parents only believed us when they were there when the teachers were telling us something else. They would also force us to write in cursive, saying that in middle school and high school we will have to write in cursive, which happened to be a lie. Worst of all I have a condition where I pee my pants. I got bullied so much. This year was when I got depression and realized I had anxiety.
I start seventh grade. It was my first year in middle school. Everything was fine until I met this boy in PE. We started talking and soon became friends. After a while, we became best friends with secret crushes on eachother. On Valentine's Day, he gave me his watch. It was a very expensive watch. Later that day, we texted eachother confessing our love to eachother. We stayed as friends for about a month before he asked me to be his girlfriend. Of course I said yes, but I didn't know what was coming for me. Soon, I had stopped hanging out with my best group of friends and started hanging out with him. This went on until the end of the school year. My best friends tried to warn me about him, I didn't listen. They kept saying that he had cheated on several girls before me, all I said was, "that was in the past." I saw something good in him.
On the last day, we both knew we would be split up because he was one grade older than me, which meant he was going to the high school, while I stayed at the middle school for another year. During summer break, I met up with him a few times, until he stopped replying to my texts for a week. After that week, he replied, well I thought it was him, turns out it was someone he knew who had his phone. I started asking questions such as; Is he alright?, Is he hurt?, Did I do something? The man kept answering saying he was not allowed to tell me anything. He told me he was hurt. I had no clue what was going on. I was so confused because I hadn't done anything wrong. The man soon stopped answering for a full day and then told me my bf broke up with me. I kept asking why and asking so many questions.
Again, the same answer. Soon, I got a text from my bf saying that if I don't stop texting him he'll kill himself. I begged him to stop and I asked him what I did wrong. He said I knew what I did. I did not know what I did wrong and continued to ask him. He replied with the same answer. Then, he texted me that he had a rifle to his chin and that to stop texting me or he'll shoot himself. I believed this and texted the cops. Once the cops got to his house, he really did have a rifle to his chin. The cops were able to stop him and talked to him for about an hour. I texted him asking if he was alright. That's when he texted me saying not to ever speak to him again, so I did as he said. From that day on, I had visions of what might have happened if I didn't call the cops. Even the slight mention of guns or suicide brought back the frightening messages he sent me that day.