'It's not finished but I could use some critique at this point. It's meant to be a short story (Yes! Short! XD But it's bordering novella...) It's about.... 1/3 done.

lol 13 paragraphs how ironic... *giggles*

Anyways, I shall update every 3 paragraphs or so. Hopefully i'll finish the entire thing by next week =3='

Normally, when one writes in a journal, it is because they are trying to store happy memories in writing. So in the future one can look back at it and smile. So why is it that someone like Arzi Noire, miserable and unlucky, is writing such a memory-keeping passage? I've wondered that myself. Honestly, I don't know the answer. Maybe it's boredom. Maybe, she wants to someday look back at this and laugh. Or maybe she just feels like she need to get this out to someone, if not a friend then a mere book. Books can understand. At least to her. However I do not wish to ponder over this reasoning any further. Instead I will start this melancholy and unfortunate tale.

This girl, Arzi, was peculiar in many ways. Her most striking feature being her eyes, jet black pupils thrown into sapphire orbs, they would stare you down fiercely, impale you with their beauty. Though exquisite, Arzi’s eyes were a rare sight, for her messy black hair would always drape over them. Her short cut would outline her jaw, bouncing into place around her chin. Her body had a frail frame and from afar looked like a delicate porcelain doll, elegant and pale. She was, in her own way, very beautiful. Unfortunately she failed to be popular since Arzi herself was terribly eccentric, she had many idiosyncratic mannerisms. An quiet insomniac, loner usually found in small secluded corners reading books with an expressionless face. That was she. Arzi was far from the rosy-cheeked princesses you see in a fairy tale. No. This is nothing like a story like that. As I said before, this is not a happy tale.

Her story begins on a Monday. Yes a Monday, a most common day, the first day, day of the moon, working day, a painful day. Though she wouldn't have suspected that. After all, this was a normal day, no omen has come her way. In fact, she could have mistaken today for a good day. After all it started with positive aspects. This Monday was cloudy, a slight breeze blew through the streets with just enough sunlight to brighten the surroundings but not blind you or give your unnecessary warmth. As the sunlight fell onto the book Arzi had been reading, she realized it was time to prepare for school. Her eyes left the book for the first time in hours as she glanced at her clock, it read 5:43. Arzi was slightly taken aback that the sun was out this early, but these was just one of the surprises today brought.

Gently closing her book, she placed it back onto her mahogany book case and began preparing for school. Eating a sandwich, having a shower, checking her school-bag, each activity happened so efficiently. It filled Arzi with suspicion, if that day were like any other day, Arzi wouldn’t have been able to find anything to eat, the shower would keep changing temperature because of the faulty heater and her school-bag would be terribly un-organized. But as she stood in front of her wardrobe, contemplating what to wear, seeing the laundry had been done, for once, she received a foreboding feeling. It sent a chill down her spine, but she decided to shrug it off instead. Arzi picked off random articles of clothing from the wadrobe, her usual method.

She stared at her choices. A navy beret, a shirt with a V-neck plunge of the same shade, a black shirt with black and white long-sleeves, a white satin tie, a black, navy and white tartan skirt, a studded belt, navy leg warmers and knee-high boots. Arzi threw the outfit on and received an outcome that put a small smile on her face. She was surprised to find that it looked spectacular. In fact, she didn’t even know she had some of the clothes she plucked off. But once again, Arzi decided it was just a coincidence, a simple mix-up in the laundry.

Arzi twirled happily in front of the mirror, spotting the clock as she did. As 6:48 flashed before her eyes, a slight panic ran through her. She perked up, brushed her hair and made a grab for her bag, dumping her journal into it as she did. Arzi dashed down the stairs, making a loud stomp echo throughout the house. She looked around, finding her keys and cell-phone instantaneously. She ran through the doorway, slamming it shut behind her. Arzi continued her sprint down the road, it was lucky that the shoes she chose were flat heeled, it certainly helped her with her speed. Arriving at the bus stop, she saw the bus begin to appear in the horizon. She gasped for breath, relieved to know that she didn’t miss it. By that time, it would have been safe to assume today will be fine, of course. Anyone else would have thought so. But Arzi knew better, as she entered her bus and found a lone seat at the back, she still recieved a feeling of uneasiness. And Arzi was correct, this day brought a deplorable fate.

That fate began to surface around noon. At this time her jolly class-mates would be at the cafeteria, eating, talking, gossiping and having fun. As for Arzi, she can usually be found at the darkest corner of the library. In that corner was a rickety and dusty arm chair. Oh, how Arzi loved to let herself fall into that chair and release the dust that have been caught in the fabric. Once that dust surrounds her, she would sniff the musty smell it emitted and begin reading her book by the light of the small window across her.

On this Monday, Arzi plucked off a book of fairytales from a shelf. Arzi felt it was suitable to match her supposed good luck with a happy ending. If not hers, then a someone else’s. A fairy-tale seemed fit. Arzi flipped through the book and scanned the contents, feeling satisfied with her choice. She began her retreat to her corner, sashaying down the aisle, lightly grazing the spines of the book’s on shelves as she passed them. It was then that she saw it. Arzi stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted it. Her mouth hung limp from wonderment and curiosity, her eyes shone with eagerness.

Slowly, she edged closer to the item, as if trying to avoid bombs on a land-mine. What she was being cautious for, she did now know. After all, it was a doll. Just a doll. A mere toy cannot possibly bring her harm right? Even with this mind-set Arzi took her steps carefully. She felt an ominous aura emanate from this play-thing. Though Arzi was intrigued by this, she also acknowledged it, taking it as a warning. Thus her small steps towards the toy. Once at a ‘safe’ distance, Arzi began examining the item.

This doll, a stuffed bunny to be precise, has fur of velvet, black like an oily sea. It’s eyes are shiny red buttons that gleamed with malice, a red thread was a messily stitched on to form it’s jagged smirk. It’s pudgy cotton-filled body was concealed by a frilly tartan dress, with matching shoes. It’s design astonished Arzi. It was cute… yet dark. It was strange to find something so mysterious and menacing lying so innocently on the floor.

Shifting ever closer to the doll, Arzi out-stretched her hands and gingerly picked the doll of the ground. She held the doll’s at arm’s length and tilted her head as she continued her evaluation. Her eyes connected with the doll’s, twitching as she found nothing wrong with it. Arzi released a sigh of discontent as she rest the doll onto her lap. She continued letting her thoughts process, wondering why it is that this doll was discarded.

Her reverence was distracted by the clamorous ring of the lunch bell. Arzi gasped sharply at the obnoxious noise, breaking out of her reverie. She shook her head and began to return to reality. She snuck a quick glance at the clock and averted her gaze back to the doll. Arzi bit her lip, feeling reluctant. She considered skipping her class since it was just a study hall. A waste of time. But staining a straight-A school record wasn’t something anyone would do, at least not over a doll. Except for Arzi Noire that is.

As she peered at the doll she felt as if it was her responsibility now. She felt like she was caught under a spell, she just couldn’t seem to leave the doll behind. However she was wrong. Arzi had a choice. There was no spell, only her desires and her will. Arzi wanted to get out. She wanted to take a risk, feel adventure, feel thrill and adrenaline. But nothing was pushing her to that direction. Then along came this enigmatic doll. Still, Arzi could have put the doll down. She could have ran out of that library and still make it in time for class. She could have continued with her life normally. Content in thinking that someone else had found the doll, maybe one of the librarians on duty, maybe eventhe owner. I would have encouraged her to do that. After all, it was the sane thing to do. But when Arzi saw a chance to break away from her boring, depressing and normal life, she knew she had to take it and that is exactly what she did.

Arzi had decided to look for the doll’s owner, she preferred that term since, ‘skipping class’ gave her a perturbed feeling. She buried that guilt in that back of her mind and focused solely on the doll. She stayed immobile for the first few minutes, sitting idly in the back of the library. Her eyes stayed glued to the doll as she racked her mind for possible people who might have been the owner, but Arzi’s unsociable ways had come and bit her behind, as she came up blank with her thoughts. Since she found no conclusions or hints, she instead jumped to her feet. Ready to take action.

Oh dear. I'm afraid that the moment I got to 'sapphire orbs' I stopped reading.
Honestly.
I think it would be beneficial for you to look up the terms 'purple prose' and 'cliche'.
-Millions of people journal, and each for a different reason. It doesn't really excite sympathy to make it sound as though your character is the only one who writes her sorrows down.
-Why is her name Arzi? Is there a particular reason, such as the society she lives in, or did you just want a character with a speshul name?
-We really don't need the paragraph long description of her every feature and action. The appearance we don't really care about, and the mannerisms you can show us throughout the story.
-I don't think the word 'idiosyncratic' really fits. Unusual would work just as well.
-If you are going to have a character who is an insomniac, then please do some research on the condition. As a chronic insomniac myself, let me assure you that it is very different from the feeling of just not getting a full night's sleep, and there are many underlying problems that cause insomnia and many extreme effects from it.
-Your character sounds like a bit of an emo. Sorry to stereotype, but, well... I've read an awful lot of stories that have heroines just like yours in the last couple of months.
-The entire part where she gets ready for school does not need to exist. The only part I found relevant was when you discussed her heater and the shower, because it gave us some insight into her life. Also, I assume that because she was reading, she did not sleep that night? Do you have any idea how hellish it is to spend sleepless night after sleepless night? I'm amazed she has the concentration left to read, much less attend school.
-Where exactly does she find the bunny? You completely dropped us here and launched into an extreme, over-elaborate explanation of the doll.
-The fact that this is a speshul, cursed, magical doll comes off a little strong. Maybe have it be less obvious, or seem at first to be only in Arzi's head? Leave a bit of mystery for us to solve ourselves.

Overall, this is very passive and not overly interesting, and the entire thing could be condensed into about three paragraphs. However, do keep working on it if you feel that it really has directon, and remember to spend as much time (if not more) editing your work as you do writing it. Good luck!