Glittery Secret (Ch 1)

Dear Journal,

Wow, really? Is this how I'm supposed to start this? Why did Mom and Dad give me a journal that says "diary?" For Lola, my dainty twin, I'd understand. But for me? Aren't diaries for little girls? Not ones like me, I mean ones like her. So, is this normal?

So let me tell you one thing - this is a journal, not a diary. And don't you forget it.

Yeah, I got a journal for my 6th birthday. Lola got a diary, but as far as I know, she doesn't actually write stuff in it. I think she might've booby trapped it anyway. I mean, I didn't see her do it, nor did I find out the hard way, but I doubt she would let any secrets slip out without a fight. I didn't write anything in here either since then (other than now, but whatever) but... something's come up. A secret. A big one.

I know I know, usually if I have a secret it's easier and sometimes better to just keep it locked in your head. But all that is small stuff, like chewing up Dad's boots, tracking mud in the house (I somehow managed to pin the blame on Lynn... I don't know how but they bought it. And Lynn wasn't too happy about it, but we're cool now), among other stuff. Simple, right?

But no. This one, this is an entirely different story. If I try to just keep it in my head, I'll go crazy! I'd be nervous all day and night, and everyone would notice, and they wouldn't let me off the hook until I tell them! And I can't have that happen? Why? Because this would definitely ruin my image as the toughest girl on the block! I'd become a laughingstock in my own house, and probably outside too. So no, if I wanna keep both my secret and my sanity, then I'm going to have to write my feelings here. Lucy called it venting, I think. She said that it's why she writes poems and other stories. I haven't seen these other stories, but I'm guessing they're just as dark and gloomy.

I suppose I shouldn't keep you waiting much longer, if you are even interested in hearing what I have to say. Welp, here goes...

One fateful morning, Lincoln had clogged the toilet. Again. Particularly badly, as in, water had flooded out into the hallway, everyone ankle-deep in toilet water. I didn't mind too much, but everyone else was grossed out beyond belief. Yes, even Lynn. So, Dad and I went to go and fix it. Well, to be honest, I've kind of did it all alone. Even now, I still can't believe that he thought a simple plunger would be all it'd take to fix such an extreme case. Good thing I had Big Bertha on me at the time. She's the best friend a girl like me can have in dirty situations.

Anyways, what came out of the toilet wasn't… well, I don't know if you're easily squicked out, just like Lola is, but anyways, what came out was a book. Yeah, someone tried to flush a book down the toilet! And somehow didn't expect it to get clogged?! Man, I sure needed to have a little talk with them that day. Anyways, most of the pages were ruined, and as fragile as wet toilet paper (which wasn't very different), but they were still readable. And I could make out some of the overly-sweet pictures in them, too.

Yeah, you heard that right, I read a few of the pages. I mean, it wasn't immediately. I pulled it out, be we later found out Lincoln owned that book, but due to its current state, we simply threw it away.

Now here's the thing. I like to dig in the trash a lot. And eat it, yeah. Everyone says that I'll get sick from it, but so far that hasn't happened. I'll believe it when I see it. But I had just been mucking around in the can like always, enjoying a little dessert. And I came across it again. Something about it just… I felt like I was being pulled to it, like that gravity thing we learned about at school.

I mean, the cover wasn't exactly my style, but if Lincoln read that thing, I guess I could give it a try. And I've learned three things. One, I really don't understand my brother's likings. Two, gum from the trash can, can still hold its flavor in your mouth and even have some extra ones (always a plus), but maybe the third thing I've found out was something about myself that I would never imagine and therefore never worried about.

Until that day, that is. Now, I'm not gonna go all cliche on your butt and say that it changed my life forever or anything like that, but it certainly changed something. And that was my perception on things like this. I decided that if I could get through a few pages of this without getting diabetes or dying from a girliness overdose, then I might as well give it a chance.

Well, guess I can't keep fooling you much longer. Wait a second, I can, you're not a person… or are you? Is someone in there reading this? Uh, whatever, pretty sure if there is someone reading the notes in my Dia… sorry, my journal, then I would know about it. Besides, who would care about the problems of a six year old tomboy? Nobody that I know of, that's for sure. Okay, maybe mom and dad, but this is not the case. Right? I need to stop watching those conspiracy movies my family recommends all the time. Yeesh, they're really taking their toll on my mind. Next thing I know, a bunch of random people will be reading this like it was a book written by another author or something.

And they'll all know my glittery secret; I like Princess Pony.