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Dear Diary,
Last night, I went to Michael’s for a sleep over. I showed up after he was asleep and without him outwardly asking me to come over, but I knew it was okay. You know what, Diary? His skin is like cotton candy. So sweet, and it just seems to melt in your mouth. I spent the whole night licking his face, hands and feet. I didn’t even have time to sleep. I also took a few thousand pictures of him too which I plan on framing, so none for you, Diary. Did you know that he smells like cucumbers and hot dogs? What an alluring scent. There was one thing that puzzled me though. Why was he sleeping in the same bed with his male friend?
-Bekah M.
Dear Diary,
Michael got a haircut. How do I know? After ditching my other responsibilities and following him non-stop for the past month and a half, he went into a hair salon. I guess he’s so manly, he was trying to feminize himself. HA! As if you could get rid of all that testosterone. Anyways, he went in, got his hair cut and with my luck, his hair was the last to go in the bag before it was full. I immediately lodged myself discreetly into the ceiling of the hair salon and lay in wait for everyone to leave. I then took the bag with me and searched through it for all of his hair like a hungry raccoon looking for an apple core. I now have a new pillow with his hair being used as the stuffing. I feel like we’re that much closer. <3
-Bekah MacIntyre
Dear Diary,
Christmas is coming up and I’ve been thinking real hard about what to get him. I remember overhearing him say something about wanting some calendars full of half-dressed cowboys as I was listening in from the bug I planted in his house. My guess is he wants the calendar to look for fashion ideas. After all, cowboys have the best attire; second only to firemen. Haha, suspenders. I think I’ll make him a scrapbook and fill it with pictures of him and things of his, like that lock of his golden-sun hair. Oh my, I’m excited! I’m going to start right away.
-Bekah M.
P.S.- Michael, if you read this, than you can count on be not sneaking in through your window again. Just kidding! I’m already inside. You should be too.
Dear Diary,
Yesterday, I followed Michael from his work to his home. I then perched myself on his roof and waited until he fell into a deep slumber. The fool, how he makes my body tremble and sweat. Once he fell asleep, I let myself into the unlocked door. It felt locked at first, but my pure skill and ambition unlocked it. Michael also needs to fix the door frame; it’s broken. Maybe that’s why it was hard to open the door. I made my way up the stairs and into his room. I just stood there and watched him push air in and out of his bountiful body. Glorious. I took some pictures and then grabbed a jar out of my bag. I held the opened jar on his face and as he breathed out pure sweetness, I captured all his essence in the jar for myself. When I returned home at dawn, I took a picture of Michael and glued it to the jar. I’ve named him Little Michael. He’s my best friend.
-Bekah M.
P.S.- I hope Michael doesn’t drink his milk.
CANDID! Ha ha! He didn’t even know I was in the tree, watching, waiting, taking pictures, taking his soul.
