Diary of a Broken Teenager

Have you ever felt so angry that you just want to curl up in a corner and die? Most people have been there. Some more than others. So, meet Naledi. She ends up in that place more that most. Why? Read her diary and find out. (Although this story is a work of fiction, many of the events mentioned are real)


2. Day 2 - Meeting Kieran

Thursday 17th December

Dear Diary,

I thought life couldn't get any worse. Apparently I was wrong. I know this is going to sound like one of those crappy  £5 romance novels sold at the newsagents, but I found out today that I have a MEGA crush. I was at my locker this morning to pick up my books for calculus, and then someone tapped me on the shoulder. of course, I thought it was Grace, but then I turned around and saw him. Tall, at least 6ft; muscular, rugby-player build; short, tousled blond hair. And those lips, Oh My God, those kissable lips.

"Hey! I'm Kieran. I'm a newbie here. It's my first day. The stroppy old cow at reception told be that I'm locker 248, but neglected to tell me where on earth I could find that. I've spent the last twenty minutes running around the school looking for it."

"248 is next to mine. I'm 246. You're lucky."


"We're both top lockers. That's lucky. Everyone hates being at the bottom. You kinda get crushed."

"Okay. Thanks. What do you have next? I have to be to Mr Whitman's calculus class."

"Me too. I know a math nerd when I see one..."

We both laughed hard and headed off to our class together. It was going really well until we got to class, and Chantelle ambushed Kieran. She swamped him in an octopus embrace, followed by a full-on snog. I slipped quietly away, and, cliché as it may be, I watched my dreams slip away.

After school, I walked home with Grace. When I reached my doorstop, I reached to press the doorbell, and then stopped. Maybe I was better off slipping in through the back door. Maybe that way my dad wouldn't get annoyed that I forgot my key.

I wandered into the kitchen and dumped my bag on the side. And then my dad walked in. He grabbed me by the arm and held it so tight that I cried out in pain, and I could see a red patch forming. He then grabbed my arm further up with the other hand and twisted so hard that I couldn't help but scream. I collapsed into a sobbing mess on the floor. He started to walk out of the room, but when he reached the door, he stopped and said, "That was for forgetting to cover up the mark yesterday when you went out. Don't get careless again."

Running upstairs to my room, I grabbed a wrist strap out of the bathroom cupboard, and went into mine and Abbie's room. "What happened to your arm?"

"Nothing much. I just fell over at netball practice today and it hurts a bit." And once again, the lie slipped so easily off my lips.




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