Thursday, August 29th 2013
So, I got this journal for my birthday a couple of weeks ago. My mother gave it to me in some pathetic attempt to connect, telling me about how writing her diary had helped her through some difficult times. Ugh, too little, too late! You know what would have helped? Having an actual Mom and Dad around when I was growing up instead of two strangers who worked seven days a week and rarely got home until after the nanny-of-the-month had put me to bed.
Guess what, mother? Writing about that didn’t make me feel any fucking better about it. Awesome present. And now I’ve actually put that thought on paper, I’d better damn well make sure nobody else ever reads this.
In better news, it’s my best friend Nathan’s birthday, and I finally get to see him again in a couple of days. He’s like the brother I never had, and summer has really sucked without having him to talk shit over with. He’s got some stupid thing with his parents this evening, but we’re planning a sick party for Saturday night once I’m back in Arcadia Bay. We’re going to rule Blackwell this year.
Of course, I would have been the Queen of Blackwell years ago hobby if it wasn’t for that bitch Rachel. So unfair: everybody loved her, but she didn’t even give a shit! I had my eye on her crown ever since she drugged me to steal my role in The Tempest, but even after she vanished, everyone was still worshipping her. Now it’s a new year, and no-one’s going to care about Rachel except for that blue-haired loser friend of hers – and she finally got her ass permanently kicked out of Blackwell, so, bonus!
Rant over. I need to finish packing.
Sunday, September 1st 2013
Ow, my fucking head! I have the motherfucker of all hangovers. Nathan’s party totally rocked, but I may have had a little too much to drink… it was so totally worth it.
Someone needs to tell the losers moving into the dorms today to shut the fuck up, though.
Thank fuck for earplugs. Managed to get some more sleep and finally feel human again. Then I made the mistake of trying to get a look at the new arrivals, and wasn’t that depressing? Somehow, I doubt we’re going to be having any worthwhile new recruits for the Vortex Club this year.
Anyway, classes start tomorrow; weird thing is, I’m actually looking forward to it. Seems like somewhere along the line, trying to get the perfect grades to go with my perfect image, I discovered that I actually like learning stuff. Well, some subjects, at least. For the rest, I have minions.
Monday, September 2nd 2013
Turns out I was totally right about one of the newbs. Maxine fucking Caulfield with her pathetic hipster clothes that look like they came from last year’s thrift store clear-out. Get this: she uses an actual vintage Polaroid camera with that crappy self-developing film. How the hell does she expect to be taken seriously as a photographer using gear made for lazy eighties tourists?
Of course, Mark Jefferson was all over that shit and how ‘he’s the reason she came to Blackwell’. Fuck off, bitch, he’s mine! At least he still appreciates real art: I showed him some of the work I did over the summer, and he seemed pretty impressed. He’s still adorably oblivious to my flirting, though; maybe I need to be less subtle.
Thursday, September 12th 2013
Reason #57 why Victoria writing a journal is a bad idea: it’s been ten days since my last entry, and I hadn’t even noticed. I’m at school. What exactly is there to write about?
Oh yeah, the other new senior: goody two-shoes Kate Marsh, poster child for the religious right. Her idea of a birthday celebration was trying to persuade us all to join her abstinence club. Fat chance! I’m sure as hell not waiting until marriage to get laid. I’d rather not be waiting at all, but Mark’s still not picking up on my signals. As for my other options, Blackwell’s male student body isn’t exactly ripe with student bodies I’d like to get my hands on. Maybe Zach, but I’m not really sure he’s my type.
At least Courtney came through with the ghost-writing. Seriously, who assigns an essay on the first day of term? I don’t have time for that shit, there’s next week’s Vortex Club party to plan.
Saturday, September 21st 2013
Last night was awesome! I even remembered to drink a fuck-ton of water before coming to bed, so no hangover. Result! Best part of the evening: turning away Maxine Caulfield. Sorry, but we have a strict no-loser policy. “But it’s my birthday tomorrow,” she whined. Pathetic.
Okay, why am I wasting space on her again? Brutal honesty, since I’m never going to let anyone else read this. She may look and act like a loser, and she has that lame retro camera, but I have to admit that she has some serious talent. I’m actually a little jealous, but also annoyed about her whiny self-deprecation – have some fucking confidence, girl!
Okay, I lied. It wasn’t all awesome. I’d finally decided to make some moves on Zach, except fucking Juliet got there first, and she had him making goo-goo eyes at her the entire evening. She’s going to pay for that.
Monday, September 23rd 2013
Exciting news: today, Mark told us about this photography contest he wants us all to enter, ‘Everyday Heroes’. Finally, a chance to do some real art! Plus, whoever he choses to represent Blackwell gets to fly with him to San Francisco for the national final. A gallery showing that isn’t the Chase Space, plus a trip away with Mark? I so need to win this. It’s not like there’s going to be much competition – Nathan, for sure; maybe you-know-who, assuming she can actually work up the nerve to enter something.
Sunday, September 29th 2013
Nathan went off his meds again yesterday. Same old story, he “feels fine” without them, so obviously he doesn’t need them, and the pills are just part of some big conspiracy to control him… Thing is, he’s not fine at all, he’s fucking scary. It took me until late evening to convince him to take them, and then I had to call fucking Sean to get him to smooth thing over with Wells so that Nathan doesn’t get expelled.
Of course, today he was all smiles and apologies and “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Don’t get me wrong, it feels good to be needed, but sometimes it gets exhausting always having to play the big sister when I’m all of two weeks older than him. That should be Kristine’s job, but nooo she’s got to be all noble and off saving the world.
Saturday, October 5th 2013
Another classic Vortex Club party last night, and this week’s star attraction: Kate ‘holier-than-thou’ Marsh. I have no fucking clue who let her in, or why she was even there in the first place, but she must have gone straight for the booze. In no time flat, she was making out with every boy in sight – so much for her abstinence club! Yours truly captured the whole thing on video, and I’m sure it’s going to be a big hit on YouTube. Victoria Chase, ace reporter, exposing hypocrisy at Blackwell. Eat your heart out, Juliet Watever.
Downside was, Nathan disappeared for half the night. He wouldn’t tell me where he went, either. I’m guessing he was off shooting something up in private, and I really wish he wouldn’t do that. I’m starting to get seriously worried about him, but he refuses to talk about it. Last time I tried, he totally got a rage on at me, so I have no idea what to do next. I’d talk to his parents, except that his fucking asshat of a dad is a huge part of the problem! I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.
Sunday, October 6th 2013
Finally got around to setting my revenge in motion. Ran into Juliet in town and just happened to mention to her that I’d seen a sext from Dana on Zach’s phone. Totally worth it just for the interesting color she turned, and I’ll bet the fun’s just starting.
Why Dana? Why not? It’s not like I’m oblivious to the fact that she’s the second most gorgeous woman at Blackwell, so of course Zach would happily sext her.
Monday, October 7th 2013
Oh, Nathan, what the fuck have you done?
I’m not sure, but I think Nathan killed someone this morning. Plenty of us heard the gunshot a few minutes after Mark’s class ended. I was still trying to get my flirting rhythm back after Maxine rudely interrupted us. The moment we heard it, Mark pushed me under he desk and told me to stay put. I hid there, terrified, waiting for some psycho with an assault rifle to burst in, but there was just silence. After a couple of minutes, Mark told me – again – to stay where I was, and vanished out into the hall.
When I heard the sirens, I decided I’d had enough and crawled out from under the desk. Looking out the window, I could see a bunch of cops rushing into the school, followed about half a minute later by the paramedics. It wasn’t long before the first pair of cops came back out, leading someone between them with his hands cuffed behind his back. I know Nathan well enough that I recognized him immediately. I pounded on the window, but he didn’t look back. I ran to the door, but Mark must have locked it behind him.
After a couple of frantic minutes, I went back to the window. It was the only way I had of trying to see what was going on. I saw the paramedics leaving – the gurney they’d hurried in with was still empty, and I had a feeling that wasn’t a good sign. Juliet was chasing after them, but they just ignored her. More police went in, what looked like some sort of CSI team, and then a female officer led out one of the students. She took a few steps, then slumped onto the wall around the fountain, looking like she was hyperventilating. Her shirt was stained red with what I realized to my horror must be blood, although she didn’t seem to be injured. The expression on her face said that her entire world had just disintegrated.
For a moment there, all I wanted was to give Maxine Caulfield a big hug, but then the cop led her away and the moment passed. Behind me, I heard the door open, and Principal Wells telling me to go back to the dorm. I demanded to know what was going on, but apparently he was “not at liberty to say”. Not knowing what else to do, I reluctantly came back here. On the way out, I could see the cops clustered outside the girls’ bathroom, and the Blackwell security creep – Madden? – was sat against the wall, actually crying.
I’m pretty sure there was a dead body behind that bathroom door, and that Nathan’s somehow involved. If he’s gone off his meds, or he’s having a bad reaction to some shit he took last night… I just hope they’re not going to railroad him for something that’s not entirely under his control. He needs help, the help his fucking family have been denying him for years. He sure as hell wouldn’t cope in prison.
Taylor stopped by to check on me, and to pass on all the latest rumors. Some of them were blatantly ridiculous, but a couple of people saw someone with blue hair going into the girls’ bathroom a minute or so before the shot. That can only be Rachel’s hanger-on, Chloe Price. The girl always had some serious impulse control problems and a talent for winding people up,
so she probably drove Nathan to
God, what am I writing? Nobody saw her leave, so she must have been the one in the body bag. Whatever she did to provoke Nathan, she didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to die.
After seeing Maxine earlier, it was no surprise to hear that she’d been in the bathroom at the time of the shooting. What did throw me, though, was hearing that in addition to the Principal – and unlike any of the other teachers – the police had taken Mark in for questioning. Obviously he didn’t have anything to do it, he was with me! What a waste of time.
I just want to go to sleep, and then wake up and find that today never happened.
Tuesday, October 8th 2013
So much for that. Not only did yesterday happen, so did today, and I’m pretty sure it was worse. I spent most of the morning at the police station being grilled by a detective who seemed desperate to find me guilty of something. First he was asking about Nathan’s drug habits, so I rattled of a list of his prescription meds – I should know what they are, I’ve picked them up enough times when he’s forgotten – and pleaded ignorance on the rest. Mostly, he seemed to want the name of Nathan’s dealer, and I don’t get involved in that shit anyway.
After that, he started talking about some ‘Dark Room’. I was confused at first – pretty much everyone uses digital cameras these days. That’s when the detective produced a binder. I briefly caught a glimpse of the name ‘Kate’ on the spine before he put it on the table and flipped it open. My initial reaction was admiration for the technique in the photographs it contained, swiftly followed by mounting horror as I realized that there was no way Kate had posed for the pictures willingly. Her hands were bound with duct tape, and she looked either unconscious or drugged. The timestamp was during Friday night’s party.
I got a sick feeling as I put it all together: the questioning about drugs, Kate’s behavior at the party, Nathan’s mysterious absence. My head swam for a moment, and I almost missed what the cop said next. “So, do you still claim you had no idea what Prescott and Jefferson were doing?” That stopped me cold. Jefferson? Mark Jefferson? I latched on to that with the desperation of denial – obviously he’d taken advantage of Nathan, manipulated him. The detective sighed, and produced two more binders. The first he opened to show more photographs, this time featuring Rachel Amber. His finger slammed down on one depicting Nathan posing with her, both of them lying on the ground. Her eyes looked vacant – dead. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised when he told me that they found Rachel’s body buried at the spot in the photo.
That was when he delivered the coup de grace. The final binder. It was empty, but then he tuned it so I could see the spine, revealing the name written on it. My name. I felt like an icy hand had reached in to crush my heart, and there was a roaring sound in my ears. “So, how does it feel, knowing that you were next?” he asked.
It felt like betrayal. There was no other word for it. Maybe Jefferson had manipulated Nathan into joining whatever sick game he was playing, but I was having a hard time believing that he didn’t know exactly what he was doing. To Rachel, to Kate, to… me. After everything I’d done for him, all those times I’d helped him through a rough patch, this was how he repaid me? You can bet I told the detective everything I knew – even if it was precious little, and probably nothing they hadn’t already found out.
Eventually, they let me go, and I came back here to hide in my room and start writ—
Well, my day just got, like, 10% worse. Maxine Caulfield came barging in while I was writing this, and dragged me off to confront Juliet, who’d locked Dana in her room. I’d completely forgotten about those sexts I told her I saw on Zach’s phone. I apologized to her, and what did I get? A slap in the face. I guess I kinda had it coming, so I didn’t even bother fighting back, I just left them to it.
It still hurts, though. Or, at least, it would on any other day. With everything else I’m feeling right now, a sore cheek barely registers.
Ow. My hand is starting to cramp up. I can’t remember the last time I did this much actual writing – that’s what keyboards were invented for.
At least I did one decent thing today: the moment I got back from the police station, I took down that that damn video of Kate.