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Dear Diary

Oppgaven var å skrive et dagbokinnlegg om noen som var annerledes, "Different".

Karakter: 6 (10. klasse, prøvetentamen)

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It’s one of theirs again, I think. I saw one of those weird looking whiteish asteroids pass today. Sometimes I just can’t keep but wondering and pondering about what they really call them. But for now I suppose I must call them funny-looking asteroids, until someone tells me what they are.


I still feel very lonely up here. But I do know that everlasting darkness and the cold are eternal here; it will always be like that, until the big bright star comes and devours us all with one big bite. It’s so far away. I tried to stretch out my hand as far as I could, but I could not reach it. That made me very depressed. It looks so close, yet it’s so far away... Far away from me, the lonely little person hidden within the shadow of them.


I don’t like them at all. In fact, I hate them! Yet, I’m very curious about them. I always think about them. Within every passing day I keep watching over them (what else is there to do, anyways?). It has always been like that. Well, it has almost always been like that. Once, but just once, someone came. Many years ago, someone came. I was so happy. I was...


They just left.


Without saying as much as a simple “hello there”, they planted a flag and left, so once again I was alone. Of course; I would always be. Always. Now I’m staring at the big flag they left behind, a long white pole with a big piece of cloth tied to the top, the long flag proudly beaming with its stars and stripes. I wonder where they came from. I’ve heard there are different countries down there, different places called different names. I wonder which country they came from. I call them “The Colourful”, since their flag is. It must represent something. Maybe it was the ones that sent that passing weird asteroid? I saw it again just a few moments ago.


But... I hate them. They just left me up here, all alone. It has been so long since someone came. Don’t they think of me as much as I think of them?


... Do they even know that I’m here? Do they know I’m just waiting, waiting and waiting for seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years, decades and centuries for them to come back again?


But I can only wait. Wait for them to come and get me, or wait for the big bright star to take us all. Maybe if that happens, we’ll be together, and I won’t be alone anymore.



The Man on the Moon

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