Lucy in the Sky
The author of this diary began journaling on her sixteenth birthday. She lived in an upper middle class neighborhood in Santa Monica with her mom, dad, and Berkeley-bound older brother. She was a good girl, living a good life...but one party changed everything. One party, where she took one taste—and liked it. Really liked it.
Social drinking and drugging lead to more, faster, harder... She convinced herself that she was no different from anyone else who liked to party. But the evidence indicates otherwise: Soon she was she hanging out with an edgy crowd, blowing off school and everything she used to care about, all to find her next high.
But what goes up must come down, and everything—from her first swig, to her last breath—is chronicled in the diary she left behind.
Read an Excerpt
That’s ridiculous. Who writes “Dear Diary” in a diary? I mean, who writes in a diary at all? Shouldn’t I be blogging?
This is lame.
Okay, so this isn’t going to be a diary. It’s a journal. I guess that’s the same thing, but “journal” sounds less like I’m riding a tricycle or something.
Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 16.
It’s so weird sharing a birthday with your country. Always fireworks: never for you. Mom always plans an actual birthday dinner—usually the Saturday night after July... see more