By Zelda Rogue

Summary: The diary of a twelve year old, showing her slow descent into true in insanity.

4/23/04 | Dear Diary,

I bought this diary today. I keep it in my room, next to my bed. It's the only place I can write my true feelings. So I keep it in the sanctuary of my room, my cave, my hidden asylum. I guess now will be a good time to tell you why I am like this.

Three years ago my grandmother died. That was the first time I really had to deal with death. And the fact that it had been someone I had known all my life made the whole experience all the more painful. That alone striped me of a good portion of my sanity.

Since then I have changed so much, it almost frightens me. I have turned gothic and a distant, sadistic loony. In school people stare at me and criticize me. I don't care of course, when have I ever cared what they think. It just makes me think, makes me know that they see right through me.

They all say I'm insane. They don't know the half of it.