I am on holiday. When I get back to school, my teacher will ask us what we did over the holiday period. I will tell them 'I was captured and held hostage in a prison of large houses that surrounded a square ditch of water that humans swam in. Each house prison makes a silhouette of black in my soul. The males of the tribe lose their minds and play football. Football is a sport where you kick around a small round object. This is where I stayed this holiday.'
Diary, don't think I'm an ungrateful maniac but this is how I see it. A holiday house with a swimming pool. It's un-creative. Boring. Most people will say it's heaven, but I think this is hell. Last night I heard Mum's friend say 'Riva is a lovely girl, I wish I had a child who would read as much and keep herself entertained'. They don't know I am just pretending. I am always observing. I have read the same book 4 times. They have not noticed.
I'm currently watching a small spider climb up the balcony. I just heard Mum's friend say what a thoughtful child I was. I will keep looking at the spider.