1
Dear Diary,
Hi, it's me, Max Doyle. My teacher, Ms. McDonald, is making us all keep journals this year, so that's why I'm writing this.
Ms. McDonald says we should write about what happens to us every day. We should take our time and be thoughtful. And we should be honest and write down our real feelings about what we did that day.
So here's my problem.
If I write down what's really happeningto me, no one will believe it. If I tell the truth, Ms. McDonald will say I'm writing fiction, and she'll give me an F on my journal.
How embarrassing would that be? To flunk your life!
But how can I write the truth? Let's say I start out on page one here, and I write that two ghosts are haunting me.
Will Ms. McDonald buy that? I don't think so.
I would already flunk on page one.
Be sure to give details, Ms. McDonald said. Okay. Here are some details.
The two ghosts are named Nicky andTara Roland. Nicky is my age, eleven, and Tara is nine. They say that I'm living in their house. They keep appearing and disappearing all the time. They don't seem to be able to control when they're here and when they're not.
At first I was terrified of them. I mean, who wants ghosts haunting you in your room? But now I feel a little sorry for them. They don't remember how they died. And they don't know where their parents are. Are their parents dead too? They don't know.
It's very sad, right? I tried to tell Mom and Dad about Nicky and Tara. But theydidn't believe me. Mom said I'm too old to have invisible friends. And Dad keeps threatening to send me to the Plover School. It's a really tough boarding school where you have to wear uniforms and march around in the sun all day till you puke. Dad went there, and he says it will make a man of me and make me forget my stupid ghost stories.
My older brother, Colin, was no help either. He laughed at me and gave me a few punches in the stomach that made me walk on all fours for a few hours.
Colin doesn't know his own strength. Well, actually, he does. He thinks he's perfect,and he thinks I'm a total geek because I'm not perfect like him.
You see, the problem is, I'm the only one in my family who can see or hear the two ghosts.
Why is that? Beats me.
Nicky and Tara want me to help them. They're desperate to find their parents. Here's the deal: They say if I help them find their parents, they'll help make me braver and cooler. They'll help me impress my dad so he won't send me to the Plover School.
I don't really want to make a deal with ghosts. I wish they would go haunt someone else. But what can I do?
You see why I can't write any of this, Diary? I don't want Ms. McDonald to think I made up a bunch of crazy stuff to put in this journal. And I don't want to get an F.
So I can't be honest or thoughtful. And I can't write my true feelings in here. And I totally can't write what's happening to me. Sorry.
I have to tear this page out and start all over.
Dear Diary,
I woke up this morning and looked out the window. I saw that it was a beautiful November day. It made me kind of happy to see the ground all shiny with frost. But since it was a school day, I couldn't look out the window for very long.
At breakfast, my brother, Colin, shoved a poached egg down the back of my sweatshirt. Then he slapped my back really hard to make sure the egg oozed right down to my waist. Sweet guy, huh?
I changed my sweatshirt but I didn't have time to shower. So I smelled kind of eggy all day, and a few people held their noseswhen I walked by and asked, “What's that smell?”
I did a bunch of interesting stuff at school, and some crazy things happened to me, which I don't want to go into.
After school, I came home and walked my dog, Buster. And then I started writing in this journal, and that's all that happened so far.
More tomorrow.
Max
2
H ERE'S WHAT REALLY HAPPENED this morning….
The waking-up-and-looking-out-the-window part was true. And the thing about Jerk Face Colin putting an egg down my back
Dear Diary,
Hi, it's me, Max Doyle. My teacher, Ms. McDonald, is making us all keep journals this year, so that's why I'm writing this.
Ms. McDonald says we should write about what happens to us every day. We should take our time and be thoughtful. And we should be honest and write down our real feelings about what we did that day.
So here's my problem.
If I write down what's really happeningto me, no one will believe it. If I tell the truth, Ms. McDonald will say I'm writing fiction, and she'll give me an F on my journal.
How embarrassing would that be? To flunk your life!
But how can I write the truth? Let's say I start out on page one here, and I write that two ghosts are haunting me.
Will Ms. McDonald buy that? I don't think so.
I would already flunk on page one.
Be sure to give details, Ms. McDonald said. Okay. Here are some details.
The two ghosts are named Nicky andTara Roland. Nicky is my age, eleven, and Tara is nine. They say that I'm living in their house. They keep appearing and disappearing all the time. They don't seem to be able to control when they're here and when they're not.
At first I was terrified of them. I mean, who wants ghosts haunting you in your room? But now I feel a little sorry for them. They don't remember how they died. And they don't know where their parents are. Are their parents dead too? They don't know.
It's very sad, right? I tried to tell Mom and Dad about Nicky and Tara. But theydidn't believe me. Mom said I'm too old to have invisible friends. And Dad keeps threatening to send me to the Plover School. It's a really tough boarding school where you have to wear uniforms and march around in the sun all day till you puke. Dad went there, and he says it will make a man of me and make me forget my stupid ghost stories.
My older brother, Colin, was no help either. He laughed at me and gave me a few punches in the stomach that made me walk on all fours for a few hours.
Colin doesn't know his own strength. Well, actually, he does. He thinks he's perfect,and he thinks I'm a total geek because I'm not perfect like him.
You see, the problem is, I'm the only one in my family who can see or hear the two ghosts.
Why is that? Beats me.
Nicky and Tara want me to help them. They're desperate to find their parents. Here's the deal: They say if I help them find their parents, they'll help make me braver and cooler. They'll help me impress my dad so he won't send me to the Plover School.
I don't really want to make a deal with ghosts. I wish they would go haunt someone else. But what can I do?
You see why I can't write any of this, Diary? I don't want Ms. McDonald to think I made up a bunch of crazy stuff to put in this journal. And I don't want to get an F.
So I can't be honest or thoughtful. And I can't write my true feelings in here. And I totally can't write what's happening to me. Sorry.
I have to tear this page out and start all over.
Dear Diary,
I woke up this morning and looked out the window. I saw that it was a beautiful November day. It made me kind of happy to see the ground all shiny with frost. But since it was a school day, I couldn't look out the window for very long.
At breakfast, my brother, Colin, shoved a poached egg down the back of my sweatshirt. Then he slapped my back really hard to make sure the egg oozed right down to my waist. Sweet guy, huh?
I changed my sweatshirt but I didn't have time to shower. So I smelled kind of eggy all day, and a few people held their noseswhen I walked by and asked, “What's that smell?”
I did a bunch of interesting stuff at school, and some crazy things happened to me, which I don't want to go into.
After school, I came home and walked my dog, Buster. And then I started writing in this journal, and that's all that happened so far.
More tomorrow.
Max
2
H ERE'S WHAT REALLY HAPPENED this morning….
The waking-up-and-looking-out-the-window part was true. And the thing about Jerk Face Colin putting an egg down my back
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