The Diary Adventure

by Anav Ahaan Arora, age 8
The Diary Adventure Anav likes to write serious, fictional stories. Some of his favorite books are from the Secret Seven Series, and ones written by Stephen Hawking. When he's not reading, writing, watching something, or doing his homework, he likes to play with his younger brother.

“Today after workshop, I’m going to a birthday party. I’m not supposed to go dressed in a costume, but I want to. I don’t think anybody’s going to notice me in my costume, so I’m not worried about it. This birthday party doesn’t have any theme. I want it to, though.”

Sunday, October 30, 2016

Dear Diary,

Today after workshop, I’m going to a birthday party. I’m not supposed to go dressed in a costume, but I want to. I don’t think anybody’s going to notice me in my costume, so I’m not worried about it. This birthday party doesn’t have any theme. I want it to, though.

I’m going as a vampire.

This morning, I woke up at 1:00 in the morning. I don’t know why, but maybe you do. Maybe because my eczema was itching me. I kept having to wake up and put my cream on the back of my knees, but I’m not 100% sure that was the reason why I woke up early.

I stayed up until 3:00 a.m. in the morning, and then, I fell back asleep. I woke up at 8:30 AM, because I was really tired. But I didn’t feel tired. I felt like I normally do every morning, which is fine. Rested. Every morning, I feel–

”Come down, I need you to drink your water!” yelled my mom.

“Okay!”

–like an early bird. Finally, I walked down the stairs to the living room and started gulping down my water. And I forgot something I needed to add in my diary.

I said, “Mom, can I just be excused for a minute?”

“Why?” she wondered.

“Just because I forgot to add something in my diary.”

“You can do it later.”

But she didn’t know that my diary was quite emotional and real. I begged to go back upstairs, and finally she said yes, counting to ten. I heard her counting, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9,” and I came panting downstairs and leaped onto the sofa just as she was about to say, “10.”

My twin screamed, “TV! TV!”

I covered my ears to stop the noise, but he was too loud.

My mom said, “No, you watched too much TV already.”

I wondered, “When?”

She said, “While you were writing in your diary.”

“Oh,” I said.

Just then, I finished my water, and at that exact same moment, my dad came striding in from his changing room, as he always does.

He looked everywhere and said, “Oh, there’s my breakfast. I’m starving.”

My mom said, “As a matter of fact–oh no! We’re very late. It’s already 9 o’clock!”

I asked, “Where do we have to go?”

“You’ll see when we get there,” my mom replied very cautiously and worried.

I said, “Can I just go get something from my room?”

She replied even more cautiously, “Hurry up.”

I ran upstairs, as quick as a flash, and came rushing down faster than I have ever gone, but slower than a flash because I was exhausted from running up.

I collapsed into the car, and my intention was to start writing in my diary, but I was too tired from running upstairs, so I started snoring louder than my brother was yelling “TV.”

I woke up fifteen minutes later, and as soon as the diary thought came across my mind, I sprang up from lying down, and started scribbling every word of what happened in my diary.

The car jerked, and what I saw next was a something big, but I didn’t know what it was. The shape of it had glass, colorful windows. I’m not sure if it was the sun’s rays shining on a raindrop, or if it was just meant to be that way. I scribbled all of this in my journal.

I hopped out of the car, and my mom said, “Stop writing in that journal, so you can enjoy the party.”

I grumbled to myself, “I want to keep writing, but I feel as if I’m a bandit from my home.”

She said, “Don’t have such a sad face. Enjoy the birthday, and stop writing in that diary, or you won’t have a birthday party this year.”

She looked at me as if she wouldn’t give me any presents for my birthday, and I heard her just snort to herself. I hurried inside and started scribbling again.

I saw a little corner where lots of children were reading and writing, and as soon as I saw them, I hurried over, but not as quick as a flash. I jogged over there and somebody had just left, so I tumbled onto that cushion. Just as I was about to put down the first word, I heard a loud voice say, “Game time!”

“Noooo!” I grumbled. I felt as if it were an autocracy.

They said, “The first game is… the rock climbing jump!”

As soon as I heard rock climbing, I couldn’t stop jumping up and running towards the wall, because I love rock climbing. I was in such a hurry, that I forgot to bring my diary with me. When the game was over, I said, “Ugh, let me start writing now.”

Just at that moment, I realized that I had lost it. I was startled. I hurried over to the corner in which I had been writing. I lifted up the cushions, but it was nowhere to be found. I started sobbing, but then, I said to myself, “I will find it. I’d rather miss the activities than lose my diary.”

I started asking everyone, “Have you seen a brown, leather-covered diary/journal?”

They said, “What are you talking about?”

Just as I left, I saw them grin at each other and heard, “Let’s look at the diary!”

“Yeah, let’s do it!”

They started opening the cover, and I leaped up and snatched it, landing in the cake. There was a big gasp, but the positive news was that I got my diary. The next negative news was that my diary was dirty! I hurried out of the cake and walked with icing dripping out of my hair. My parents scolded me, and my dad took me home and locked me in my room. I was half delighted and half sad. I was sad because I wanted to enjoy the birthday, but ended up not enjoying the birthday party at all. I’m happy because I have my diary, and I can clean it up here. As soon as the door closed, I grabbed a cloth that was always in my drawer and water from the water jug. I started cleaning it up. I was finished in about ten minutes and started scribbling again in my diary.

My family came home, and I heard my twin laughing and saying, “Ha! He didn’t get to come! I finally had an outing without him!”

I ground my teeth, just to show how angry I was. I opened my door and screamed, “Mom! Dad! Can you put him in another separate room and let me come out, please?”

The next thing I heard was wailing and crying, saying, “Don’t put me in! I’ll say sorry.”

I quickly scribbled all this in my diary.

Finally, I heard footsteps coming towards my room. Creak. I heard my front door being unlocked.

“Thank you!” I said in a relieved way, and I ran downstairs to the basement and found a comfy spot where I wasn’t too cold or too hot. It was just perfect. I started writing.

When I finished writing, which I thought was only five minutes, but was actually an hour, my mom shouted, “Come down for dinner.”

I grunted and started walking up the stairs gloomily. I sat down and started sobbing when I saw what was for dinner, which was cold, fried peas. My brother had already gulped all of the peas down his throat.

My mom said, “You have to eat it all.”

When I had finished my dinner, I went up to my room and wrote everything that had happened recently.

I felt really ashamed when I went to sleep, because I could’ve fought through eating the disgusting peas, just like my brother did.

Before I went to bed, my brother came into my room to apologize.

I said, “It’s okay, I’m sorry as well.”

I went back to sleep and thought in my head, Tomorrow is going to be a great day, because today was the worst day!

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.