Life as a notebook isn't easy.

Middle school was okay but high school is another story. My owner Vanessa bought me in the second grade and kept me all through the years. She named me after herself (because my name was on my cover) and doodled in my on her free time. She always had me by her side no matter what. Vanessa was a good girl. Always had been and I knew she always would be. She put me in her binder like normal. She walked to math class. She rewrote my name in marker on my cover. I would have smiled if I could. She always sat alone and that got her good grades.

After a couple weeks she got tired of always being alone but grades seemed to matter more too her than friends.I wish I could talk to her and tell her what she needed to hear but my words will be forever stay unspoken .She wrote doodles about friends she wanted to have, and hearts, and stars. A tear drop fell on one of my pages. She put me down and cried on her pillow. I tried not to be nosy but I just wanted to help her.

Months came and went I saw she was starting to write winter and X-mas doodles. I knew it must have be December. The art teacher came up to her. "Oh Vanessa why are you doodling in your notebook and not doing your drawing of a Flamingo?" the art teacher said. She gave her an evil look and took me away and put me in her desk. "You will get it back in the office after school." the art teacher said smirking. I was locked up in jail. It was cold and dark I could not wait to get out of there.

After school Vanessa came to pick me up she held me tight. Even though she almost dropped me with all her other books she was carrying. The person behind the desk was not understanding to us but was better than the art teacher. I was positive no one liked that mean art teacher.

She held me closer trying her best not to drop me the next day. I remembered the pattern math,English,science,art,lunch,study. I was sure I was forgetting something though.I hoped art would go by fast I knew she was hoping the same thing.

In art I got taken away again. That art teacher was real unfair.She got to come to the office at lunch and come and get me. She ate nothing and frowned the whole lunch, I could tell she was barley holding back tears.

During study she wrote what she was drawing her self as an artist. She hid me before she got in trouble for doodling. Her study teacher was much nicer. Thank God everyone is not like her art teacher.

A group of kids walked up to her after study and threw all of her books (including me) onto the ground and started laughing. Her face got red as a cherry. "Haha we are just messing with you! Maybe you would want to join us Tinkerbell? You seem to be just right for our next member." one of them said.
She agreed and hung out with them for the rest of the school year. I was just put to the side but it was okay if she was happy.