Dear diary,

Like every other day, in this poor provincial town,

I heard people talking about me behind my back- they think that I can't hear?

Well, I can! I try to keep focused on my book but listening to the words the other villagers say about me.

So what if I read books?

Is there really a need to outcast me BECAUSE I read?

Also, Gaston (URRGGHH) came up to me again (in his usual cocky, arrogant manner).

Words can't describe how rude he is!

He snatched my book then chucked it in the mud puddle!

That man is certainly primeval!

Did you see how those bimbettes swooned over that pig?

I just don't see why they love him so much? He's handsome, alright but he's RUDE and CONCEITED- he's just not for me.

What's popular is not always right. What's right is not always popular.

I sit alone now, all by myself with no one else- except Papa.

How I yearn for adventure in the great wide, somewhere.

I want it more then I can tell.

It would be so grand, if for once I had someone understand, I want so much more than they got planned.

Yours sincerely,


Belle