Just One More Day

I guess I’m supposed to laugh. I mean he meant it as a joke. Trouble is, I didn’t think it was funny. But, then again, when do I think anything is funny these days? Being controlled by the diary, I don’t feel I have the right to laugh. My soul is being slowly sucked out, leaving no room for characteristic things like laughter.

I know that Riddle is only using me by now. My teachers might say that I’m not the best student, but that’s because, after writing in the diary one more time, I don’t have the energy for school. I don’t have the energy for anything after the diary. It’s like what Dad says those Muggle drugs are like, it’s addicting. I can’t stop, even though I want to. I’m addicted.

It’s all due to the fact that I have been misunderstood and ignored my whole life. To most people I’m just Ginny Weasley. Just Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron’s little sister. Just the baby of the Weasley family. They don’t care to know my thoughts, traits and personality. All they care to know is that I am the little one who is almost always in the background. They package my whole existence into a few words.

I have often been ignored by my older brothers. Bill was always much older than me, so I was just a baby to him. Charlie was always absorbed in Quidditch or his dragons. Percy is always pompous and trying to reach the top. Fred and George (one always thinks of them as one being) are always absorbed in some kind of prank. Ron, drat him, is Harry Potter’s best friend, and that apparently takes enough time and energy as it is. Harry…he is unattainable. He doesn’t really think of me, he just knows me as Ron’s little sister. I hope someday I can change that. Hermione…she doesn’t know me either. I wish she did. It would be nice to have a friend like Hermione.

Percy still seems offended that I haven’t laughed at his joke. Now he looks more worried as he sees the expression on my face. I don’t know why it should scare him. Maybe the fact that my thoughts are somewhere along the lines of “God, how am I going to get through the day” makes my face look weird or depressed. I’ll try smiling now.

He must be fooled; he has stopped looking worried. That’s a relief, Percy made me somewhat pompous, but he has a good heart. I know he, and all my brothers, look out for me.

Only the problem is that they still don’t understand me. Nobody does. Not the girls in my year, not my family, not Harry, not Hermione, not my Professors, not anybody. Tom never did. He was only tricking me.

Now that Percy’s not looking I can pull my mask off for a moment and think “God, how am I going to get through the day” again. Maybe I can figure out how to get rid of Riddle. I need to defeat him.

Still I have to learn how to live from day to day. If I sit down and feel like I can’t go on I know I can.

Just one more day.

I go up to my dorm and grab the diary. I think I’ll pay Moaning Myrtle a visit…