So, I'm really angry right now.
My stupid Creative Writing teacher sent be down to the guidance office because of this story I wrote for the class. It was a fictional story, it's not like I'm actually going to do everything I put in it. Yes, she set herself on fire. So? Do I LOOK like I'm going to kill myself, or anyone else for that matter? I'm a pretty damn happy person. I write horror, that's what I'm good at. That's just what I like to write. I'm not funny, so I suck at anything comedic or lighthearted, and I wrote a love story for the first short story assignment, so I figured I'd do something else.
Does this make Steven King a violent individual, or any horror writer out there a danger to society?
Everyone except like two people wrote about either depression, abuse, or death. But who was the only one that was sent to the guidance office, the only one that "bothered" him? Me, of course.
The woman was in a meeting with a parent when he sent me down there, so I sat there for 20 minutes before being sent back up. I didn't talk to my teacher for the rest of the class, except to tell him they sent him an email.
Apparently my story got at least one vote, which surprises me because everyone seemed weirded out by it. He didn't even read it properly- He kept stopping and asking me questions, and he read it as if he were bored and just trying to rush through it. So he ruined the whole thing, and then decided I was unstable. I'm really beginning to hate that guy. :/ I started crying, too, because I cry when I'm angry. I wasn't actually crying- I was just really teary and I had to keep wiping at my eyes to stop them from falling. I feel kind of bad for the lady at the desk, though, 'cause I'm sure I was a total bitch to her.
Aside from that, I'm actually enjoying a book we're reading for English. Usually I'm okay with them, but I don't particularly love them. Someone dies in everything we read, whether it be a book or a short story. The poetry is always depressing, though it sometimes contains death as well. We're reading The Catcher in the Rye, and I love the style it's written in.
Hah, as I was typing that she started talking about how everything we read is depressing. Apparently we'll be reading a lot of war stories. Lovely.
My birthday's in 13 days- not that anyone will be here, no one ever is. It's because of Thanksgiving. So I'm probably having a "party" the weekend after, even though I don't really want to- my mom's making me.
I wish it would hurry up and snow already, I'm getting so sick of this place and I just don't want to be here anymore. There's that, and the fact that the guidance counselor will probably call me down either sometime today or tomorrow. I really could care less- I'm not even nervous about it, I just don't feel like explaining myself to her. I kind of just want to tell her off- And my creative writing teacher. Seriously, I could put together a pretty damn good speech if I wanted to. I've been to see people like this way too many times, I'm used to it now. Back at my middle school they thought I'd either kill myself or bomb the school, and I guess they do here too, now.
I'm gonna go now, this stupid girl next to me keeps caughing REALLY loudly, and she's doing it on purpose because she's laughing about it with her friend behind us. Ugh. I really don't like her. The girl on my other side used to be really nice to me, and we talked a lot. We were friends I guess. She never says anything to me anymore, so I guess that's gone.
Yeah. So, I'm done.
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