Francesca Capaldi: Nellie's Diary Entry 3



You know that old saying: Don’t judge a book by its cover? Who am I kidding, of course you don’t. You’re a diary. Anyway, I’m thinking more and more about how I judge things, people, even books. I’m especially thinking about how I judge everything I encounter here at Crown Lake. 

Crown Lake is one of those places that’s shiny on its surface, but the deeper you go, the more secrets and murkiness you find. You can’t judge things by how they seem; you have to get below the exterior to truly understand. First, there’s Heather’s journal. I still haven’t told anyone about it, and I do feel a little silly for taking advice from someone I don’t even know. Last week, Heather almost got me in big trouble when I got detention, nearly lost Chloe (my only friend), and got noticed in all the wrong ways. But this week, her guidance actually proved to be right. Well, sort of right.

I don’t know if I consider myself a rule-follower or not. I’ve certainly done some not-perfect things in my past, but it was always for a good cause. This time, my bad deed was escaping detention, and my cause was to finally fit in here at Crown Lake. Heather said escaping was the cool thing to do, and the weird thing is that she was right. For a moment, sitting out on the grass with Tiffany, sharing our struggles without worrying about getting caught, I started to feel like I belonged somewhere. Like I belonged here

In that moment, I felt bad about judging Tiffany so quickly. It’s easy to see someone as the enemy when you don’t know anything about them, but Tiffany’s more complicated than that. She’s got her own family problems, too—things I have yet to even know about. When we forgot that we were supposed to hate each other, we were actually having fun there for a minute. But that’s a secret that you and I will have to keep. Because as soon as reality returned, Tiffany and I were right back to the start: throwing insults back and forth, doing anything we can to hurt one another.

I keep thinking about what Headmistress Merriweather said: that perhaps, in me, Tiffany had finally met her match. But, how could I be Tiffany’s match when I’m nothing like her? I may not have a shiny surface, but I guess I do have secrets buried below...