Before you start, please remember that this isn't just any diary... It's a chronicle! Now, now, if you google its synonyms, "diary" would show up, but that is besides the point. This, in your very own hands, is a chronicle. Your chronicle...

Wait, what's your name? I almost forgot to ask! What would a chronicle be without its author?

Don't be shy. Name your di— chronicle. Just fill in your name in the blank! Easy enough, right?

The Chronicles of a Pubescent God .

Doesn't that look absolutely splendid? I can tell you're already cut out for this.

Before you start freewriting, here's a few questions to get you started on your chronicle journey.

These will be scattered around every so often, so keep on the lookout and answer them along your way! Don't feel too overwhelmed with these, there's plenty of blank pages for you to fill up yourself.

Let's get started!

1. What made you decide on this book? Was it a birthday present? An omen?

Well, to be perfectly honest with you, you nailed it first try! It was my sweet sixteen a couple days ago and for completing such a life milestone, I'd been awarded with this luscious novel of sorts. Sarcasm intended, no offense ―I hope you don't mind too much. An omen? I guess you could call it that… Here, I'll relay the entire event with you so you don't feel too left out, alright? Wouldn't want to do that. My elementary school years taught me that excluding someone was a big no-no. I'm going to take a wild guess and say you're part of the vast group of someones.

So, it started off with me waking up. Pretty interesting beginning, correct? Got you on the edge of your seat and everything.

I ended up walking into the kitchen, the middle of basically everything in our house, and saying my good mornings to both my Mom and my Dad.

Dad was busy pouring water bottle remains into our tea kettle, gave me a nod and a, "Hi, sport, how's it going?"

Mom was shuffling through our drawers, throwing packets of expired coffee and hot cocoa mixes into the trash as she shook her head in disdain.

Yikes. I stole a glance at dad who looked equally as guilty.

For half an hour, the day had gone exactly normal. Like a completely normal Saturday morning. I sipped the hot chocolate I'd whipped up for myself, watching as the parental figures of my life argued about whose turn it was to choose the television show.

"Mom." I said, finally. "Dad."

They turned towards me, briefly letting themselves falter from the battle for the remote in their grasps.

"It's my birthday."

And scene!

Pretty good birthday, if I do say so myself.

To make up for it, they'd rushed out to buy me a cake ― a three-layered Oreo ice cream one, if you were wondering ― and pulled out presents they'd bought previously, but forgotten about.

During the satanic ritual of sorts, I blew out the little specks of flame on the candles of my cake, proceeding to make a wish.

I'll give you three chances to figure out what it was.

Nevermind, you're a slow guesser. It was world domination.

But instead, I got this diary. Somewhat a compromise. Certainly an omen.

Brilliant! We're so glad that you managed to stumble on us, whether it be intentional or unintentional.

2. What are some weird things you do when you're alone? Or just weird habits, in general?

Are we doing PG material or what? Kidding, kidding.

I don't really know if I have any unusual habits, let me ask my friends ― they're sitting beside me, making fun of me as I write in this journal because apparently diaries are for seventh grade girls who need constant reassurance.

I suppose I'm officially an angsty twelve-year-old girl according to their unflawed logic.

Cas said that I pull on my fingers a lot when I'm nervous. Theo agreed with him. I asked them what made them notice such an oddity and they told me this long story about how I was supposed to ask out my future wife and current crush, Emily Lim, but chickened out at the last second because I'd managed to dislocate my pinky during the conversation. Pretty good point, I couldn't argue.

When I'm alone, I like to eat cereal. Not weird from that context, but Cas said it was disgusting when I'd told him my breakfast preferences.

Okay, but be completely honest with me.

Doesn't hot (actually cold) chocolate and Cocoa Puffs sound appetizing?

Casper Broderick Matthews the Fourth has now begun to gag as he reads over my shoulder in disgust.

This goes to show that I need to make sure that anything written down in this chronicle is confidential from further on.

Theo said that writing in a diary at the age of sixteen is a pretty weird habit.

Otherwise, if you don't include my infamy as a masochistic appendage breaker whose interests coincide with prepubescent scene girls, I'm practically perfect.

Well, aren't you just an oddball? Fret not, nobody's perfect!

3. Who are your closest friends? Tell us about them!

If you insist, although it is a unanimous decision that I am superior compared to them. Let's start with Cas, as he was introduced first.

Casper Broderick Matthews the Fourth, as I'd stated previously, is one of my best friends. We've been glued to the bone (is that the right expression?) since kindergarten, when he'd walked up to me and offered a Twinkie he'd stolen from the teacher's desk. I had accepted gratefully and thus, a friendship was born. I wouldn't trade him for the world, even if he can be a major pain in the [ long bleep noise ]. That's right; the brain.

While he'll never admit it, Cas is more looks than anything else and I'd totally attach a picture of him so you could see, but I'm afraid he'd take my top secret journal because of his undying narcissism. So, in order to satisfy your needs, I'll just bullet point his charming characteristics.

His eyes

- As cliche as it sounds, Cas has got one of the most alluring pairs of eyes I've ever seen in my entire life. They're really light-green, kind of clear in a way, with specks of this cool amber color if you're up close and personal with him.

His smile

- Something about his teeth gets me feeling some type of way. Not in a romantic way, of course. His lips are sort of on the thin side, so his whites are often seen and often very blinding.

His hair

- He's got this brown lump that always sits atop his head. It never changes position, even if you try to move it. Believe me, I've tried. It's dark mixed in with light due to sun exposure and I swear everyone wants to touch it.

His build

- Cas is extremely athletic and was on all the sports teams of our school in freshman year. His favorite is soccer, I believe, but who knows, since it always seems to change. He's freaking tall as heck, the Eiffel Tower in the form of a homo sapien masculine figure. Last time I checked, he's around six foot something. Probably taller, by now.

Theodore (Roosevelt) Orlovsky is my other equal best friend. Our roots don't intertwine as far back as Cas and I, but I don't regret meeting him. He's more on the brainy side of things, though it didn't stop him from being the only acceptable freshman boy to date, according to the sophomores and juniors of last year. A big ouch to Cas and I, who'd thought we weren't so bad.

To be fair, I'll describe his characteristics as well, in case you're curious about the number one underclassman.

His eyes

- Theo's Japanese-American, so he's got these dark and chocolaty eyes. They're usually set in a serious gaze, hidden behind his thickly rimmed glasses he always wears, even though he says he prefers contacts. I think it has to do with the cheerleading captain, Emma Rutledge, saying that he looks cute with them.

His smile

- I think he's got the best smile between the three of us because of his dimples. He's got one in his left cheek and it's prominent when he's trying to stifle a smile, so that makes it even better. His grin is lopsided and his front teeth overlap a little bit when it's genuine, giving him an attractive image overall.

His hair

- His hair is jet-black and spills over his face like ink, in a way. It's usually uncombed and disheveled because Theo never feels the need to fix it up in the mornings. It always smells like strawberries, though, so that's a plus.

His build

- Theo's skinny as can be, more lanky than anything else. He can shoot a basket, but that's about where it ends with his athletic ability. He's more of the artistic type, honestly, focused on brains rather than brawn. But I guess that's what makes him him and ever so lovable.

Aren't you just a popular person? I'm glad you've got so many friends of yours that you can count on!

That was the last question, though. Don't act too disappointed about it! There'll be more later for you.

Your freewriting can begin. Let your mind vomit all over these white pages and let your imagination run free. Anything and everything is allowed because, after all, it's your chronicle!

Have fun! I'll be back to check up on you after a little bit.