Dear Diary...
Heather told me she teaches people real life. She said, real life sucks losers dry. If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly.
I said, so you teach people how to spread their wings and fly?
She said, Yes.
I said, You're Beautiful...
~
I want to kill and you have to believe it's for more than just selfish reasons; more than a spoke in my menstrual cycle. You have to believe me.
Christ, I can't explain it, but I'm allowed an understanding that my parents and these Remington University assholes have chosen to ignore. I understand I MUST STOP HEATHER.
~
Betty Finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatchdogs and Diet Cokeheads. Killing Heather would be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West. Or is it East? West! I sound like a fucking psycho.
Tomorrow I'll be kissing her aerobicized ass but tonight let me dream of a world without Heather. A world where I am free.
~
Dear Diary,
My teen angst bullshit now has a body count. The most popular people in the school are dead. Everybody's sad, but it's a weird kind of sad. Suicide gave Heather depth, Kurt a soul, Ram a brain. I don't know what it's given me, but I have no control over myself when I'm with JD. Are we going to prom or to hell?
~
Heather told everyone about Heather. Yes, Dear Diary, I've cut off Heather Chandler's head and Heather Duke's head has sprouted back in its place like some mythological thing my eighth grade boyfriend would have known about. Heather's even doing the old note trick.
I've seen JD's way. I've seen Miss Pauline Fleming's way. And nothing has changed. I guess that's Heather's way. And Jesus, what about JD? I can't get him out of my head. Wait...where's Heather going?
~
Dear Diary – last entry. No one can stop JD. Not the FBI, the CIA, or the PTA. He once told me that the extreme always makes an impression. Well, now it’s my turn. Let’s see how the son-of-a-bitch reacts to a suicide he didn't commit himself.
* Diary entries taken from the film 'Heathers' *
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