• Im sure I’ve already told you about my old friend Sara but I was just crying and thinking what it would be like if her parents hadn’t gotten a divorce. I wouldn’t be that weird girl who never does her work or that girl that never makes any sense, or the one who talks too fast, girl who always reads, girl who always writes in her journal est. I would actually have friends and I would'nt be a loner with my one friend. Every time I find a group of "cool" people to hang out with I do something embarrassing by accident and they just shun me out, but being the stupid person I am I just try to tag along and only worsen my bad reputation. Every time I don’t realize it’s just a joke and that they really don’t care about me. The other day one of thoughs girls offered me her water during study time because she didn’t want it so I took it and that was the last time I ever got anything nice from one of thoughs people. It seems every time I get attached to something (or someone) I destroy it or it gets taken from me. I got the under layer of my hair dyed purple with some purple streaks and when I got to school so many people noticed and they said it was really cool then I took a shower that night and it washed out and my life went back to its usually boring ignored self. It seems impossible for me to find something to hold dear and close. in my room I have a small collection of things that I have become attached to most of them are little objects that anybody would pass and not even see ,kind of like me, but I see them and instantly I put one in my pocket and it goes into my collection. A lot of them are purple. like a whistle from when me and my friend Sara went to the dollar store to buy "noise makers" I remember being like "What are thoughs?" and she said like it was the stupidest thing ever "Things that make noise." and we started cracking up. We each bought a whistle and some candy and we ran around the neighborhood blowing up our whistles and eating Peeps. I remember the last time she slept over, well almost slept over but then there was a big wind storm and she had to go home before it got too bad. infact that was the last time she was even at my house. Then the next time I saw her she was a drug shooting, smoking, popping, and sex addict. If her dad hadn’t won the court battle she would be living with her mom and we would still be good friends laughing together having a good time. Sharing stories, building forts, watching animal planet together, going crazy, stealing black berries from her neighbor and feeding the horses the dew covered grass that they couldn’t reach from behind the fence... and I wouldn’t be some loner, shut in, over talkative, loud, weird, teen.