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11:02pm Jan 15 2011 (last edited on 7:22pm Apr 3 2011)
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((PG-13. **Cigarettes)) Day 1 My mom is making me do this. I don't have a problem. I don't I don't I don't. But somehow my mother doesn't believe me. For starters, let me introduce myself. My name is Catie. Not Catherine. I'm fourteen, and I'm anorexic, according to those dudes in white coats that I enjoy flipping off. I don't remember the last time I had a full meal. Wait, yes I do. It was...two years ago almost. March 20th, 2009. Yeah. That was the day. I was furious. I was mad, I was mad. I needed a way to get back at mom...I would starve myself. That was it. She would be mad because I wouldn't eat. Hah. That's what you get, Ma. Your daughter, your precious little Catie, will be dying in front of your eyes. And you'll have to watch it. Hah. Now I'm being shipped off to this...place. It's a hospital but they claim it isn't. They call it a camp. It isn't a camp. A camp isn't all white. A camp doesn't have a clean cafeteria with shiny white tile floors. Camps don't make you wear hospital gowns. Aw, Sh!t. The nurse is coming. Gotta go. I'll write in this thing tomorrow, I guess. I'll do it for my mom. ~Catherine Elizabeth Duncan
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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11:17pm Jan 15 2011 (last edited on 12:30pm Jan 16 2011)
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Day 2 The nurse told me to eat. Eat. Who does she think she is, telling me to eat? There's something wrong with her. There's something wrong with me, too, but at least I don't eat. Or tell people to eat. Anyway, hospital gowns are damn itchy, and they took away my cigarettes. MY CIGARETTES ARE GONE. I have an itchy gown and no cigarettes. This place may be trying not to, but it's killing me. It will kill me. I'm gonna die. Mom said they'll make me eat here. Plus I can talk about my feelings with some shrink. She said I'll start feeling better soon. She said this, she said that. All I can think about is the fact that I might go into triple digits again if I eat the food that the nurse has laid out in front of me. There's thick, crispy bacon. Three slices. A half cup of Scrambled eggs. A tall gla.ss of orange juice, no pulp. Toast. With what looks like four tablespoons of butter. The smell is nauseating. I nibble on the bacon piece. Cut it into thirds, then sixths, then twelfths. Eat those pieces, bit by bit. And then I take the garbage pail that's on the floor beside me and hold it up to my face. And I vomit up that bacon. It's gross. It's fat. It's gonna make me fat. I'm gonna be fat. ~Catherine Elizabeth Duncan
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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11:22am Jan 16 2011
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Posts: 200
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I. LOVE! it. Catie definitely has character, and I think you're doing a great job. Although, I wouldn't use as much bold/italics/underlines, but it's up to you. "I was mad I was mad." I would put a comma in between the two statements. |
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11:33am Jan 16 2011
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Posts: 1,191
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Brilliant. Although you should probably watch the language ono Anfd lay of the bold/italics/underlines. I realize it's supposed to be a diary. But even then. Bold is 99 percent NEVER, Italics is used to highlight, and underline is for titles. o_o <3
my name's russ and i only care about uldavi and cute men |
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12:27pm Jan 16 2011
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((The whole idea is that she's over-expressing her feelings. She doesn't use proper grammar/punctuation because she thinks the whole idea of the diary is stupid. The reason I put so many underlines/bolds/italics was because she's actually writing like that. I originally wrote this in a certain font that looked like handwriting. It looked much better like that. xD But of course Res doesn't like other fonts besides its own. :3 Thanks guys, and I might fix some of the bold/underline stuff just for Res. :D))
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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12:48pm Jan 16 2011
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Posts: 10,925
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Day 2 cont. 12:32 PM After a painful lunch, all of us "campers" were forced into this small room. It has pale blue walls. Dark blue carpet. And one, two three...seven metal chairs, like the ones I used to sit in at school. There's a single white light hanging above us. Me-plus-five-other-freaks-and-a-counselor us. I wonder out loud why all of the campers are girls, and the counselor places her index finger to her lips and shushes me. I don't shush, though, and ask what we're doing here. She tells me that right now is the time we're all supposed to introduce ourselves to one another. We start by saying our names. Then how long we've been in this hellhole. Then how old we are. The lady picks a tall girl with red hair to start. I figure she's been here the longest. "My name is Amber," She says. "I've been in here for a year and a half. I'm seventeen." Most of them respond with little, "Hi, Amber"s or "Hey." I feel like I'm in a self-support group. Maybe I am. The next girl goes. She's short. She has lots of freckles. And she's the skinniest here, which is hard to be. She says her name is Danica. She says that she's thirteen. And she's been here for six months. She had spunk. I liked her. Then a brunette Heather goes, then a black haired, dark-skinned girl named Courtney. You can tell they're friends, because they only look at each other when they speak. They both claim to be fifteen. The last girl before me is the most shocking. She's the littlest. She looks too young to be here. "My name is Emily," She says. A soft, high tone. "I'm eight." Eight. EIGHT. The girl's a baby. How is she here? The poor, poor kid. She's pale. She has blonde, blonde hair, and blue eyes that are also pale. Everything about her is pale; lifeless. It's scary. I stand up. "Catie," I say, twirling my light brown hair. "I've been in this hospital..."-I sneer at the counselor, who gives me a dirty look-"For two days. Oh, and I'm fourteen. You can all stop staring at me now, I'm done." And that's what I am. Done. ~Catherine Elizabeth Duncan
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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1:51pm Jan 16 2011
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Posts: 200
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"She's the littlest." askfjsl;dfj Littlest is not correct...it's a big pet peeve of mine. You would use smallest. Of course, I can understand that Catie is talking and she used littlest because that's how she talks. I was just making sure you knew. :) |
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2:02pm Jan 16 2011
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Posts: 10,925
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I do know that, Lol. And actually, it sometimes bothers me as well when people say it like that. I put that because it's almost a hint that Catie doesn't really care about literacy and isn't good in school, etc. (:
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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6:06pm Jan 19 2011 (last edited on 6:06pm Jan 19 2011)
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Posts: 6
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I like it alot sissie, it's really cool. And emotionel. Sorry I don't know how to spell :P |
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6:11pm Jan 19 2011
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Posts: 10,925
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Get out of here, Grace. >_> You shouldn't be reading this anyway, chickie.
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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11:03pm Jan 21 2011
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Posts: 6,590
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Brilliant. So full of emotion and character. The reader can sence that what Catherine is doing is wrong; but in a way...they also want to side with her. I love it<3
Is Funneh online?: why NO
be back tonight |
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8:34am Jan 22 2011
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Posts: 4,914
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god job but i tink u shud use moar punctuation plz ... Ahem. I like it. o3o It's a constant stream of thoughts. It stays on one topic. It's just like a real diary, except in crazyneat writing. u shud liek mak hur use moar txt speke. norly. and typis. *typos Sorry for the random suggestions. :c
Flashbacks, warm nights,
Almost left behind.
Suitcases of memories,
Time after time.
ლ(╹◡╹ლ)
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11:00am Jan 22 2011
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Posts: 10,925
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Thanks guys. And yeah, Innie, like I said in a couple of posts above, it's originally written in a actual handwriting sort of font. But Res doesn't like other fonts intruding, so I had to change it. xD Day 3's coming up soon, I promise. Just been a little busy.
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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1:37pm Jan 22 2011
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Posts: 355
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This is a great story - I find myself checking this thread EVERY day to see if there is more :D
by Zen ♥ |
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3:48pm Jan 22 2011
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Posts: 3,950
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I love the story. <3 It really gives the reader a sense on how the character is feeling through her writing. I am also checking this all the time every day to see if you've posted more. ;)
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hiiii. you can call me ice.
bands took over my life and
i laugh too hard at bad jokes.
meh. x
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4:29pm Jan 22 2011 (last edited on 4:30pm Jan 22 2011)
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Posts: 10,925
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Day 3 Emily was moved to the bed next to mine this morning. Sorry, not bed. "Dorm room." Whatever. But now I'm determined to make this little kid enjoy this...this place, no matter what. The poor thing's a baby. "Hi," was all the little girl said to me when she walked in with her things, a pillow, a pink blanket, and a purple bag that most likely contained her clothes. I said Hi back with a forced smile, and Emily laid out her blanket. She looked so weak. I just wanted to hug her. But I felt like if I tried, I would crush her. The two of us walked to lunch together silently, holding hands. For some reason we already had a bond between us, even though we had hardly spoken to each other. She was already the closest thing I had to a friend. Which felt good, in a weird sort of warm way that I've never felt before. I've always been cold, so is warm bad? Or is cold bad? Am I bad? ~Catherine Elizabeth Duncan ((Sorry this is short. I'll add more later.))
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip.
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6:45pm Jan 22 2011
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by Zen ♥ |
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4:55pm Jan 23 2011
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Posts: 6,590
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Paigey<3 This story has me addicted(:
Is Funneh online?: why NO
be back tonight |
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11:02pm Feb 4 2011
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Addicted. O.O
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12:17pm Feb 6 2011
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