#canondiarye

[imightbebeautiful]

Month / Day / Year

Dear diary,

I have to call Heather. She told me to bring her the box of Corn Nuts, and I didn't. She will crucify me, but I have to call her to apologize.

Wait, what was her number again?

Right. It's:

.-- .- -.- . ....... ..- .--. .-.-.-

I think.

Doesn't matter. This should work.

Hello?

Greetings and Salutations. You've dialed the janitor's closet, this is Pete speaking.

Yes, hi! This is Veronica, Veronica Sawyer. Is Heather Chandler there? I need to talk to her.

I'm afraid that won't be possible, Veronica. Did you forget? There's no service where she went.

Where she went? She's out of town?

You could say that... Say, may I interest you in some of our products?

Products? I'm sorry, isn't this janitor Pete speaking?

We sell cleaning products here at the closet. Feel free to stop by any time to buy some. My window is always open for you. I recommend going with big blue. It'll take care of the most tedious filth. After all:

I–I have to hang up now.

Of course... But, Veronica, remember to dial Heather's number once more to exit. It's imperative that you do so.

Exit... right. But I don't remember her number, not really.

... Well,

then,

I guess

I WILL

HAUNT YOU FOR

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

ETERNITY!

You thought I was done?

You thought you would be free?

Awwwwww, you're cute.

Good little Veronica Sawyer is scared to face reality!

Tell me something new.

Hm?

What's that?

You look confused.

You don't remember?

Or do you not want to remember?

How dare you forget?

Re

Mem

Ber

YOU K I L L E D ME!!!!!!

WAKE UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Was it just a dream this time?

[imightbebeautiful]

I'll be dead by Monday. IM SCREWED, simple as that. Only 30 hours to live. How did this hapen? I ws having fun.

Puking was awful, but oh, the look on Heathers face was priceles. And I flipped her off too. Deserved. Bitch.

Thank God I found a water bottle to rinse my mouh on my way out. The taste was VILE. But my head isnt spinnin no more and thats good.

I dont know wher Im going. Streets are empty, and its a quarter to 2. Im walking alone... just like she decreated.

Monday at 8AM, I'll set foot in school and meet my end. Theres no avoiding it. No one can go aganst the demon queen and win. Theyll delete me. I'll be hunted down in study hall, their brand new hunting trophy.

But I dont have to stay annd die like... like cattle. There has to be somthin I can do. Like change my name, maybe? Ride to Seattle and never show my face at Sherwood again!

But I cant take moms car, she needs it. Cant wait till graduation to get mine either. There womt be a graduation, just my lifless body. If I had somethin else, smaller and easier to get.

A motorbike! Yes! There's a motorbike over there! Okay I just gotta ride away on it. Dont know how to hotwire but I can do it yeah I thi

Wait

I know that bike

J.D.

✎ᝰ.

Veronica stealthily makes her way around the property, examining it with newfound excitement. The wires in her hazy mind are already plotting her next move. She finds herself contemplating quite the tempting idea when her eyes look up to an illuminated bedroom window.

✎ᝰ.

Okay Im sure Im in his yard now. Lights are still on in one of the rooms...

Maybe theres better options than runing away. Gotta do somethin before they punch my clock.

Think I know how I'll spend the next 30 hours.

"So the world's unfair. Keep it locked out there. In here it's beautiful. Let's make it beautiful."

[imightbebeautiful]

Found corner. Finaly. This party s great. Ive been dancing an singing and dancing and drinking. Yes dinking. LOL.

Shots are good but strong. Very very strong and I liked the jello shot it was tasty. but I think I take my alchol good.

I've misssssed you diary!!! But your'e not my real diary but you stil work. you re so very. wait. Didnt write the date and I wrote on the space. Ill write here.

Sept. – September 21 2? I dont know 1989

There. Much better, LOL. LOL.

LOL. I love LOL. Thanks Mal!

Ive seen many things. Too many people make out at corners. not this one obviously. Ive seen whats called 3rd vbase. And a hot girl smiled at me!!!! Siad I was lookin good. how did I get so popular ? Everyone knows me and that's new but is cool. Popularity isnt that bad afer all. At some point I fleww!!! Kurt and Ram lifted me very high! I was like superman supergirl? yeah.

people still arriving wow

Oh! that girl looks like Martha

OH MARTHAS HERE!

[imightbebeautiful]

September 23rd, 1989

Dear diary,

"Jason Dean, J.D. for short." I found out his name! I found out much more than that! I'm fighting the urge to squeal right here and now.

I'm in Heather's car with Heather and Heather too. Thank goodness the three are busy talking about... a piñata? No idea. I don't really care. Ram's house isn't far so I have to write this quick. Good thing I always keep my notepad with me. You'll be my substitute diary for the night, like its cousin. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Anyway, ♡J.D.!♡ I ran into him at the 7-Eleven. The four of us made what was supposed to be a quick stop there to get snacks, mainly some Corn Nuts for Heather. They sent me to fetch everything (looks like I'm the errand girl), and I stepped out of the car thinking I'd be back in a second. Oh was I wrong.

There, from around the slushie machine, came out the mysterious new kid that won't leave everyone's mouth nor my mind. I might've fixed my hair, threw him a few looks, and basically flirted here and there. But he did so too!

He spoke to me first, which I was completely calm about... externally. Then he offered to buy me a Slurpee and after some banter debating the 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒾𝒸𝒶𝒸𝒾𝑒𝓈 of the store's 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒷𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓈, I asked for his name and he finally "threw it."

It's good to put a name to the handsome face. The face I had centimeters away from mine at one point. Maybe I should've leaned in, he clearly got that close on purpose... But nope! I'll take it slow. I would have to be desperate to go that fast.

There was no small talk, no vain topics. He's a breath of fresh air in this godforsaken town.

Speaking of, he explained his reason for moving here is because of his father's job. You will never guess who the man is... Big Bud Dean! I see his TV commercial all the time! It's kinda hilarious but also pretty overblown. And judging by J.D.'s reaction, seems I'm not wrong in thinking that. But hey, maybe the man is just quite the character. I guess I'll know once I IF I meet him.

If.

I shouldn't be getting my hopes up anyway. After all, I keep proving my potential to make it to the next edition of The Guiness Book of World Records as the world's unluckiest human alive. I mean, what are the chances I make a "does your mom know" joke to someone whose mother passed away? Well, it's never zero, because that's exactly what I did!

F U C K !

✎ᝰ.

Veronica has to take a brief pause to deal with the embarrassment of the memory. Duke was throwing her a weirded out glance, clearly noticing the strange expression she was making. In response, Veronica gave her an awkward smile before she continued writing.

✎ᝰ.

On the bright side, he didn't seem to take any offense to my ignorance. I'd even say something good came from it. He opened up about his life, what he's been through, how he copes. He hasn't had it easy, that much I could tell.

He said he considers himself apathetic, numb. I can't exactly agree. He may be, to an extent. After all, we know ourselves better than anyone else but... How do I put it? A part of me feels like if that were the complete truth, we wouldn't have had that conversation in the first place. Why would an apathetic person reach out to someone else twice? Why lay your soul bare if not because you do care, and deep down wish for connection?

He doesn't strike me as apathetic, he strikes me as someone who's been severely hurt. Someone who feels in extremes and resorted to apathy as a shield. He did say: "The extreme always seems to make an impression." Maybe that's all he's ever known.

I don't entirely understand what he's been through. I probably don't even know the half of it. Still, I find that I wouldn't mind listening and being there for him if he lets me.

God! Was that too sappy?

I barely know the guy!

And yet, in a perfect world where I didn't have to kiss the Heathers aerobicized asses, I would've happily stayed there for the rest of the evening. Just talking at the local 7-Eleven, probably ending the night with a stomachache from all the candy and laughter. Sounds like a perfect Saturday night to me. Instead, I'm on my way to a party. And yeah, I am a bit curious and excited to experience a real one, I won't deny it. But I can't help but wonder what could've been.

✎ᝰ.

Heather Duke tells Veronica to "drop the homework" since they're almost at Ram's house. Veronica puts her pen and notepad back inside her blazer's pocket and readies herself for whatever the night might throw her way.

[imightbebeautiful]

(Still) September 22nd, 1989

Dear diary,

It's finally night time. What a day. I'm still trying to process everything. I thought the first day of school was eventful but, God, today doesn't fall behind.

I gave you enough information about my crush on the mysterious new kid, so I think I don't need to say more... Except that I'm planning to talk to him on Monday.

Unless I see him during the weekend? After all, Ram's homecoming party is tomorrow, so I'll be out. He definitely won't go there, I mean, he'd have to be crazy to pull that one. But maybe he will be around town somewhere?

...

I need to get him out of my head!

I'll tell you about the party instead!

All of Westerberg will be there. I, obviously, will be going with the Heathers. They'll be coming over a few hours before it's time to leave since I invited them to play some croquet. Or, more like Heather forced me to do so ever since I told them I play croquet with my parents every second Sunday of the month. Dad will wake up early in the morning to mow the lawn, mom will make us some snacks, and I'll make sure everything is clean and organized. Hopefully they won't find anything to criticize. Though, knowing them, they'll find the smallest of things to comment on. "Them" being Heather and maybe Heather if she's allowed to speak.

What do people even do at parties? I haven't been to one. Darren still hasn't let me join one of those "goth raves" he goes to, or whatever they're called. Maybe next year when I turn 18? I'll ask him at Thanksgiving dinner.

I doubt this party will be anything like that, though. But hey, a party is a party, especially when the closest I've ever come to experiencing one was during the farewell party for summer camp in '86. But all cabin leaders and staff were there so it wasn't anything crazy. Not like I spent much time in there anyway. Jenn had other plans for us. But I won't get into that. The last thing I need is to reminisce about what couldn't be...

I know I'm avoiding telling you what happened earlier today.

Before I met Mr. Baudelaire quoting badass, right after writing today's first entry, I did something terrible. Maybe the worst thing I've ever done. I feel so guilty, dear diary. How could I do that to Martha? I have no excuse, I should have fought, insisted more, should have stood my ground; but I'm a coward.

I knew the Heathers wouldn't exactly use my abilities in forgery to ensure charity and the well-being of others. Heather is no Mother Theresa... and neither am I. They've began to collect their toll, the trial period is finally over, and of course the first mission demanded a sacrifice. Only I'm to blame, though. How dare I act so outraged when I knew from the start my skill would be used to hurt others? I said it myself: "I signed up for it, I planned it".

I forged a note in Ram Sweeney's handwriting in which he was flirting and inviting someone to his homecoming party. That someone turned out to be Martha.

God.

She looked so happy. I don't think I've seen her smile like that in years. A real, hopeful smile. If she shows up at the party tomorrow only to get rejected by Ram... I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

And how will I even tell her the truth? Do I have the guts to confess it was me? That would break her.

I should have done more. I should have told her right when it happened. But the Heathers had just gone on a full-on lecture about how, to put it simply, "I can fly with the eagles" or go back to being a nobody.

There's no use in dwelling on what I didn't do. If she shows up tomorrow I'll make sure to stay by her side all the time, Heathers be damned. I owe her.

[Art by Jane Massey]

[imightbebeautiful]

Introduction 𓂃🖊

𖦹꧁ ༺ 📖 ༻ ꧂𖦹

My name's Veronica Sawyer, currently 17 years old, and a senior (class of 1990!) at Westerberg Highschool.

This is the part where I give you some context. You see, you are my diary. Shocking, isn't it? Not at all. I've been writing for years now. Not to mention, you're an inanimate object so you have no feelings, LOL. What a weird acronym. But it works. Better than writing long "ha ha ha's" like I used to.

As I was saying, you're my new diary, since the last one ran out of pages. Just in time for the first day of senior year. This has been a way of organizing my thoughts and an outlet for my feelings since middle school. Some may call it lame or deranged ("some" being everyone at school) but I don't care. Why should I? It's my little hobby and I won't let anyone ruin it for me. Martha, my best friend, said it's like my very own archive. And has encouraged me to keep going ever since she found out. I love that girl. ♡

So yes, I'll be pouring all of myself into you. I just realized how funny that sounds after writing it which is making me LOL again. The acronym is growing on me.

Introduction aside, I think I will write my first entry after school. Here's to hoping I don't get too harassed. It's the first day, for God's sake. Surely their attention won't be in making other's life miserable when they have their big egos to inflate. Maybe they'll be too busy showing off their first-day-of-school outfits or getting their crushe's attention. But also, if that turns out to be the case, I'll start to believe in miracles.

Gotta go, dear diary. I can hear the bus approaching. I have a hunch that you'll be an important one. Call it a gut feeling. I'll see you in a few hours!

I m p o r t a n t I n f o

【Ｇｕｉｄｅ ａｎｄ Ｎａｖｉｇａｔｉｏｎ】

【Ａｂｏｕｔ Ｖｅｒｏｎｉｃａ】

【ＲＰ ＆ Ａｄｍｉｎ】

Ａｂｏｕｔ Ｍａｉｎ Ｌｉｓｔ

💙 credits to @/pixopix & @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 💙

[imightbebeautiful]

blah blah date

blah blaaa a a ª

DIARY! Way too many things just happened! A very very bad thing included, but the most recent, a minute ago, a guy I've never seen before talked to me. Must be new. I passed him by while he was reading who-knows-what and he spoke up. I was not expecting it. He almost gave me a heart attack, the jerk. A cute jerk, BUT STILL!

He quoted Baudelaire at me and had the audacity to walk away! Naturally, I ran followed after him to ask for his name. His response? "I didn't throw it."

I will admit that was... That was smooth.

No, but seriously, who is he? He was flirting, right? That was definitely flirtatious behavior. Am I crazy, dear dia—

HOLY SHIT! ! !

[imightbebeautiful]

September 2nd, 1989

Dear diary,

I'm currently at the mall's food court sitting at a table while the trio buys our lunch. The Heathers and I arrived early in the morning. It's noon now. Their mission? Buy me all sorts of clothes, accesories, and whatever products they deem important to complete my transformation. Or their "MRRR", as Heather called it. "Mission Rescue, Repair, Revive." I asked her if she meant "M.R.R.R." but no, she insists on pronouncing it by just lengthening the "m" sound and rolling her r's. "Mmmrrrrrrrr."

Looks like hanging out with them can be fun.

The last store we went to was Victoria's Secret. I had never been in there before. Turns out they not only sell lingerie but also some fragances. We each got one from a new collection. Heather grabbed the "Peach Hyacinth", Heather the "Freesia", then Heather went with "Her Majesty's Rose", and insisted I chose one too. I settled on "Tranquil Breezes", which has a nice fresh smell to it, not too strong.

Did you know there's two key measurements for a bra? I didn't. Heather demanded I get some new ones because, and I quote, "There's no point in buying you some killer clothes if your tits will look as saggy as two overused slinkies while you're wearing them."

So now I have this expensive underwear, perfume, jewelry, and clothes I thought I'd only be able to own later in life. And we haven't even bought any shoes or makeup yet.

I'm not complaining, not at all but... I know there's an unspoken deal behind this apparent display of kindness. It isn't for free. I'm expected to give something in return, just not yet.

Aaaand they're coming back. Gotta go.