The Journal entries for the project

The journal entries I have for my project. Thr first one I wrote like I was Johnny, and the second is kinda the same thing. It's 100% true.

Johnny's:
I did it. I killed a Soc. Then I ran. What kind of kid am I? A kid who kills ‘n’ run? That’s not me. That’s a juvenile delinquent, someone who knows what jail is like. I feel so guilty right now. For me to take a life, that’s not my job. That’s the fuzz’s job.
My hands are ruined, tainted. Tainted with blood, tainted with murder. That Soc was drowning Pony, and I made an oath that I would never be jumped again like that one night… I just didn’t think it would come to this. With my switchblade, my anger, my actions. I’m so afraid I’ll be found, I’m feeling sick. The worst part is that I ran, ran away from it all, ran away from the… murder. Just thinking about last night, I want to fade. I want to fade away, into the world, I want to forget everything, who I am, what life I have, want I’ve done.
I’m afraid for my life. I’m glad Pony’s here, or else I would do far worse things than run away from the fuzz. He keeps me company, and we read Gone With the Wind anytime we’re not playing poker. I’d rather be a lonely person with a friend than a hermit with nobody.
Johnny Curtis

Mine:
I’m scared silly. I slapped him. I slapped Terrance. Now I’m in ISS for two days, one before Spring Break, one after. Normally when a kid slaps anyone in the school zone, the least the school can do is OSS for a day. Since I had such a clean record, I got the two days. I don’t fit in, with all these other people, and it’s very boring, nobody to talk to, and always doing work. Shockingly, I’m getting sympathy from all of my teachers. Well, all of them except for Mrs. Coppedge. You can tell she doesn’t like me, or what I’ve done. She hasn’t liked me much before, but now she really doesn’t like me.
I’m so grateful Mr. Bouldin, 6th grade teachers, and the vice principal understood why I did it. I was tired. Tired of all the social exclusion, tired of being picked on, being called ugly and ‘Monkey Girl,’ tired of it all. My friends were the only thing keeping me from skipping school, doing really bad things, and just having really low self esteem. I would be a real delinquent had not been for them.
He, Terrance, was one of the popular African-American kids in 6th, but always getting into trouble, whether it be with the teachers or the other kids. None of the teachers like him or his friends. That’s why I got the sympathy from the teachers. I had stood up to the bullying I received. True, I went way to far, not telling a teacher and slapping somebody, but as I look back, I see I did the thing that most kids would have probably done.
Once back in normal classes, I got congratulations from other kids. I mean, to them, this NOBODY slapped a kid. That was pretty big for them. They thought he was annoying too, so they liked it. They wanted more of it, of the fighting, of the abuse. My school was a very bad school. It had a lot of African-American kids who always acted out, and my school was a last resort before reformatory school.
The only regret that I have is not telling my parents. They got the call from the vice principal, whom I asked not to call my parents and she said ok, while we were on vacation in Mississippi, and though I was chewed out a lot, they were disappointed.
That slap changed my life.
Rachel