Scarlett Dummi's Diary

(Note: None of the entries were dated, so entries will be labeled by number)

ENTRY #1:

Just for starters, I didn’t want to start a journal. I’m honestly doing it for two reasons--One being that I have nothing better to do with my time, and the other being that if I get amnesia and this journal is the first thing I see, I want to get my memory back as quick as possible. Hey, I say those are good reasons.

So I guess it’s best to begin with the stuff I care most about, since I probably want to remember that first. Well, I don’t really care about most stuff, but you knew that. After all, you ARE me, even if you have amnesia. Whatever, carry on.

My name is Scarlett Dummi (Pronounced the same as ’dummy’, since people can get the weirdest pronunciations off of that. I mean, ’doomy’? Seriously?). I am a girl--And since I had to tell you that, I assume I’m a total idiot--and I don’t care how old I am. It’s nobody’s business. I go to a school called Monster High, since, again, I like killing time and that’s a pretty good way to do it. I’m a life-sized ventriloquist dummy, and as of this my dad is Slappy and mom’s. . . Whoever she is. I don’t know.

And before we go on, let’s remind myself I’m not fond of dad. If you’re actually me, you’ll know why. If you’re not, put this down. Didn’t you see the warning on the cover?

I own a patchwork axolotl named Poppy, and she is my best friend. She listens and doesn’t talk behind my back if I say something honest. Like, ’I hate fifty-eight percent of people I know’. Well, that isn’t true, I hate more.

In fact, I lied up there too. Poppy isn’t my best friend--Not really. That honor belongs to Cleo De Nile. She’s determined, clever, confident, and has a similar goal to me. She wants control of the school. I want control over the Normies. I mean, come on. Their minds can’t think on their own, they need someone to tell them what to do. Cleo and I would be perfect!

(As a note before I move on, for every bad thing I say about dad, remember this: I at least admire his line of work. Okay? Good.)

As of now I have my eye on two boys. Okay, hear me out. You want to call me a total flirt, don’t you, amnesia-me? Well, no, you mindless idiot who didn’t get her memory back by now. No I’m not. For your information, Jackson is my test dummy (Pun not intended. Seriously. I hate puns) for tricks I can play on Normies. I mean, he’s a Normie anyway. Speaking of which, why is he in MONSTER High? He’s normal! I don’t get it, but he’ll be a perfect lab rat for my tricks.

The other one is Clawd Wolf, who is totally cute, okay? There, now you can call me a flirt. Are you happy now? Well, it’s selfish (Hah! Like I’m one to talk) to say he’s only cute, he’s also athletic, and smart, and cute, and confident, and has a sister so he’s already good with girls. I mean, that’s why boys HAVE sisters, right? I don’t see any other reason. Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have a brother, then. Or any siblings.

I guess it’s best to stop this first entry here, since, well, I have no intention of writing more at the moment. Maybe I’ll write more, if I really want to or I have time to kill. Bye.