Why do I have to be so fucked over?!
I get one good thing - her asking me to actually spend time with her tonight - then I get totally fucked over with this project. Not only is it totally fucked up by not being lined up it actually looks like totally CRAP! and I'm pretty sure we won't even finished the stupid writing out part tomorrow morning.

Also, another smack in the face was for me fucking "mouthing off" to my dad on the phone and having my mom change my braces appointment because I have to go to school tomorrow early. I'm sorry that I'm pissed off at this fucking project that I'm so screwed over for and it's hardly even my fault.

Other then that, the night out with her was a much needed surprise for me. Hugs included, which I feel like I haven't had from her in ages. Despite the pain on my left cheek right now, I'm quite happy because of that, and only that.

Other then that the bruising on my stomach seems to be going down. I've been keeping this in for so long that I may as well just say it now. I don't even know how long ago it was when I got kicked repeatedly in the stomach... it hurt a lot more Monday when we had to gym and I had to change in the bathroom stall so no one would see the stupid purple, brown and yellow markings across my stomach. I can hardly even remember why she would do such a thing to me. I was accepting the regular smack in the face but when I got smacked and then kicked to the ground I was surprised. The pain didn't even come till another kick was put right into my stomach. She seemed to just leave me there after she was done. I could hardly even cry it hurt so bad. I remember just lying there thinking how much this hurt, more then the cuts crossed over about a thousand times on my wrist, getting deeper and deeper each time. After what seemed like hours I tried to get up but just couldn't because every movement I made it seemed to send more and more pain to my boobs, my stomach, even my arms.
God, I don't even know why I saying this on here... this something I should be writing in my new journal I've been keeping... one with many more secrets then this one. It just seems like it's better when I know someone out there knows. I rather keep it quiet though, I don't want any trouble... I mean someone knowing and taking it and telling someone would be the worse thing that could happen to me. I don't want to get to a foster home... those things are horrbile and I'd be taken away from my brother... my friends... that would hurt more the bruises on my stomach and the recent slaps in the face.

Anyway... I'm done... maybe I'll just have one more good cry before I try calling her again... her phone's of course busy... like every other time I try to call to talk to her.