{ORIG} Diary of 001: Entry 000. Intro
Author's Note: This is the prologue to my ORIGINAL FICTION, Diary of 001. All characters and storylines were designed by me, Alyssa McDonald (cinnimonster) and are copyright to me. Imitation is okay, but copying is flat out annoying. If you find anything of that sort happening, please let me know. Also, I want to let you know that I have big hopes of publishing this one day. So, any sort of critique would be greatly appreciated, although I understand if you need to read the first chapter or such first. Thank you for reading if you did, and comments are always welcome--even if it is just a "this was great" or "this was bad." :)
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You would think that every little girl growing up during my time lived a perfectly normal life. Some of us encountered some difficulties-rape, domestic abuse, poor boyfriends. Or, some of us just grew up with the typical nervous parents, bad grades, and teenage angst. Of course, we all have one thing in common with at least one other person. But, I don’t think any other little girl quite has anything in common with how I grew up.
It started years ago, when I was five years old, and it’s still going on today, even though I’m nearing twenty-two. Yep, I’m not what you’d call normal. So, keep on turning pages. We’ll see how far you can make it before you ask the question, “How the hell did you make it?” I guarantee you’ll be asking that question before page fifty.
I suppose the worst happens to the best, and that certainly isn’t me being conceited. It’s just that I have some pretty neat talents compared to the rest of this city’s population.
Welcome to my diary. Welcome to my life. And most of all, welcome to hell.
Enjoy the ride. It’s a bumpy one.
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You would think that every little girl growing up during my time lived a perfectly normal life. Some of us encountered some difficulties-rape, domestic abuse, poor boyfriends. Or, some of us just grew up with the typical nervous parents, bad grades, and teenage angst. Of course, we all have one thing in common with at least one other person. But, I don’t think any other little girl quite has anything in common with how I grew up.
It started years ago, when I was five years old, and it’s still going on today, even though I’m nearing twenty-two. Yep, I’m not what you’d call normal. So, keep on turning pages. We’ll see how far you can make it before you ask the question, “How the hell did you make it?” I guarantee you’ll be asking that question before page fifty.
I suppose the worst happens to the best, and that certainly isn’t me being conceited. It’s just that I have some pretty neat talents compared to the rest of this city’s population.
Welcome to my diary. Welcome to my life. And most of all, welcome to hell.
Enjoy the ride. It’s a bumpy one.