Dear Diary

Word of the day: tertiary, adj., of the third order, rank, stage, formation, etc.; third.

Okay, diary, get ready for this, I know I’ve been throwing a lot of poop your way lately, but today was actually a good day. I know. Weird.

It didn’t start out all fluffy bunnies and rainbows. There were no seats on the bus so I had to ask this girl to move her backpack, but she totally ignored me. She’s kind of a gangster, but she’s usually okay. She just turned her head and looked out the window, like I didn’t exist. Already feeling like a ghost over here! You don’t have to rub it in! I tried another seat, and this kid moved his backpack, but with this heavy sigh as if I was asking him to do my laundry.

I had a chemistry test too, and that sucked, of course, because it had this half-life question that we did not cover in class. J and I were commiserating in the hall, and K was standing there with her posse, and I noticed she was staring at me, but not really at me, but at my wrist where I have the friendship bracelet she made for me all those moons ago. And her face was like “Ew, why do you still wear that?” So I casually crossed my arms and shoved my wrist in my armpit, you know, like that’s the most comfortable place for it. /cries/

So then I’m like a zombie because I’m thinking, “Yeah, why do I still wear this stupid bracelet?” J is like, “Okay, bye,” and I’m standing in the hallway thinking about the moonlight.

Because the night K gave me the bracelet there was a full moon, and it shone on the water, and the little stones we threw in rippled the water, and the ripples spread out into the darkness and kept going, probably to the other side of the lake. That’s what she said.

And anyway the bracelet, being white and coral, goes with everything I wear, and I’ve gotten used to wearing it, so there. Even though we’re not friends anymore, it’s my bracelet to wear whenever I want, right?

Except I don’t really want to wear it, except I hate it and wish it would fall off accidentally. It’s attached with a little loop around a little knot, and of course it’s going to fall off and I’m going to lose it. But it doesn’t, and I don’t.

I ate lunch with J, who did homework, and C, who played Candy Crush. They think I’m weird, I know, with my Word of the Day and my “Appa, yip yip”. Wished I could sit with D, but she sits with K, so I can’t. L sits with K too. They all chose K. J doesn’t bring lunch, so I gave her my grapes, and C ate my chips, and I disassembled my sandwich and made a little house out of the bread.

I was dreading the full moon tonight, because it’s like a bright light in one of those interrogation scenes, “Where were you on the night of July 6th!” etc. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I was framed, I swear!” I’m guilty of something, I know it, and the cops know it too, and they shine the light in my face and they demand a confession. “Confess!” “Okay, I admit it, I admit everything! I did it and I’d do it again! Ha ha ha ha!”

But I still don’t know what I did.

So, I figured out this was the *tertiary* (yay, party hats and confetti) full moon since K stopped being my friend. The bracelet was like something made out of thorns and sandpaper, which was also somehow on fire so it burned my wrist, and yet I couldn’t take it off. And you, diary, are wondering how this ends up being a good day, right?

But this time, I didn’t hide. I went out and met the moon head on. “You think you’re so tough!” I said. “I can take you!” I said. And I walked down to the lake and I threw stones at its reflection in the water, really whipped them at it. And then, just like it was another stone, like it was nothing at all, I took off the bracelet and I threw that in too. It just slipped into the water, without even making a ripple. How is that possible? You tell me.

And the moon, it just looked down on me like a moon and not like an interrogation light, and it was so quiet because it’s too late in the year for the frogs and the crickets, and I sat on the dock and wiped my eyes and thought about how winter vacation is coming up, and how I did pretty well on that chemistry test after all, and how J and C are good friends even if they don’t talk much, and a half dozen other nice things, until I started getting cold.

And then I came home and got ready for bed and I snuggled up with Foxy Roxy in my nice warm blanket, and I took you out and start writing. And that, my friend, is a good day, believe it or not.

Published by David Hammond

David Hammond lives and dreams in Virginia with his wife, two daughters, one dog, three rats, and a multitude of insects. During the day, he makes websites. More of his writing can be found at

3 thoughts on “Dear Diary

    1. Thanks, Kristin. This is actually in response to a writing prompt: “Write anything that features one or more of the following: – cursed jewelry – inability to eat – the moon – learning a new word” Prompts can be so interesting in the ways things can fit together unexpectedly.


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