I'm a hot mess and I'll drag you down with me-- Charlotte Bell

What is wrong with me? I'm a mess. Urgh. Maybe if I actually had some friends then I wouldn't be so nasty all the time but hey, whatever, screw you all.

Why do people keep trying to help me out? I don't need anyones help. I'm better than that. I can help myself. I'm rambling aren't I?

I made a friend though. a real friend. His name is Chance. Why's he so nice to me? It's odd. no ones nice to me. Maybe it's because I'm not nice to them. Ha. But Chance, he gets me. He doesn't care that I'm arrogant and cocky and just ME. He doesn't care! It's nice to have someone to talk to.

On another note, my parents wrote me a note back. (haha, get it, I'm so punny. Was that even a pun? Nevermind.) They told me to stay here over the winter holiday. and easter holiday. Because they're having parties and they don't want me in the way. Oh, how they love me.

Sometimes I'd just like to kill them off and be done with it. My own grandparents don't even like me. They say I'm too independent. Isn't that a good thing? Why should I rely on other people? But really, how hard would it be? Sneak into their room one night over the summer, point my wand and say the magic words. The lights would leave their eyes in a flash of green.

Oh, I get excited just thinking about it! Too bad I'm not even 13 and I probably wouldn't be able to perform the killing curse anyway. But it's still fun to think about. Maybe one day.

My annoying father with his Quidditch obsession and the way he treats animals. It disgusts me. What's so great about Quidditch? It's silly. And he looks at my cat is if he were mud on the ground. Farley is better than Father will ever be.

And my Mother. I don't even know the bloody woman. She's never home and she hires other people to do all her dirty week. The woman can't perform a simple spell for the life of her because she's had everyone else do it for her her entire life.

This whole journal entry is pretty random, isn't it? Hm. I'd like some bananas. I wonder what's for breakfast tomorrow. Maybe I'll sit with Chance. I doubt the Gryffie's want me at their table though. Hm.

How do I end this bloody thing? Do I say goodbye? Of course I don't, you don't have a brain.

I'm an idiot, oh my god. They've found me. They know I stole it.

Shit. I don't even know why I took the thing in the first place. Probably because he said I couldn't buy it. Screw you. Don't tell me what I can and can't buy.

I'm confident no one will find it though. It's not even with me at Hogwarts. Ha! But I know they'll kill me if I don't tell them where it is. They're already after me. They found me today, lured me into the forest. I don't even KNOW how I got in there! All of a sudden I was just THERE, in the FREAKING forest, about to be hexed. So I ran for it.

And now here I am, writing to this stupid journal.

You know, I sort of hope my parents find the stupid stone. Then they'll be dead and I won't have to deal with them anymore. But, I shouldn't get my hopes up.

This is stupid. I feel like I'm talking to myself.