Triumph

Okay, so we are ending near the end of the school year. Not much has happened up until now. Just kidding. I am much better person now, minus the fact that me and Heather are no longer friends. So guess what I did! I wrote on the bathroom stall Guys to Stay Away From: Andy Evans, and people responded! I feel like a different person. One day, he attacked me in my abandoned janitor closet, but I fought back and won, and Nicole brought the whole lacrosse team to my aid.

Overall, I am so happy that I spoke up about Andy Evens (IT) raping me. It was very hard to do so, but now I feel like a different person with a huge weight of my shoulders.

My Hero

So Mr. Neck is talking about debating about foreigners and how his son did not get the job he wanted because of an immigrant. And all of a sudden, a kid is challenging him. I named him Brave Kid. Brave Kid: "Maybe your son didn't get the job because he's not good enough. Or he's lazy. Or the other guy was better than him, no matter what his skin color. I think the white people who have been here for two hundred years are the ones pulling down the country. They don't know how to work-they've made it too easy." Mr. Neck is not happy by this. Now all of a sudden, David Pertrakis, my lab partner, stands up. David never gets in trouble.
Mr. Neck: "Mr. Pertrakis, take your seat."
David: "If the class is debating, then each student has the right to say what's on his mind." He was standing up for Brave Kid.
Mr. Neck: "I decide who talks in here."
David: "You opened a debate. You can't close it just because its not going your way."
Mr. Neck: "Watch me. Take your seat, Mr. Pertrakis."
They then went on for a couple more minutes. I decided that David is like my role model. I have never heard such greatness put towards a teacher.

Heather

Heather, who is now my friend, has found a clan to join. She is joining the Marthas. She is a freshman member on probation. I have no idea how it happened. I suspect that money changed hands. This is part of her strategy to make herself fit in at the school. I am supposed to be tagging along, but I just can't.

NIGHTMARE

I see IT in the hallway. IT goes to Merryweather. IT is walking with Aubrey Cheerleader.  It is my nightmare and I can't wake up. IT sees me. IT smiles and winks. Good thing my lips are stitched together or I'd throw up.

Parents

At first, Mom was pretty good about preparing dinners in the morning and sticking them in the fridge, but I knew it would end. I came home to a sticky note that said, "Pizza. 555-4892. Small tip this time." Clipped to the notes was a twenty-dollar bill. My family has a good system. We communicate with note on the kitchen counter. I write when I need school supplies or a ride to the mall. They write what time they'll be back from work and if I should thaw anything. What else is there to say?

Mom is having staff problems again. My mother manages Effert's, a clothing store downtown. I think that she likes to work in the city to see everyone's reactions. "Aren't you afraid of?" people ask.

I am honestly scared of talking to my dad. I feel as if he will want to get me to talk about why I am so different after the party, but the truth is, I REALLY don't want to talk about it.

My Safe Place

Today, after I cried to the librarian about missing study hall, I got chased by Mr. Neck into the Seniors' Wing. I was in foreign territory where No Freshman Has Gone Before. I soon could hear Mr. Neck. I turned a corner, opened a door, and sepped into darkness. I felt the wall next to the door until I found the lightswitch. I didn't stumble into a classroom; it's an old janitor's closet. The closet is abandoned-it has no purpose, no name. It is the perfect place for me.

Classes

So my classes are horrible, except for Art, it is my sanctuary during the school day. My first class is biology. On the first day, I had no idea where I was going, so I got my first demerit for wandering the halls. My English teacher has no face. She has uncombed stringy hair that droops on her shoulders. The hair is black from her part to her ears and then neon orange to the frizzy ends. I call her Hairwoman. My social studies teacher is Mr. Neck, the same guy who growled at me to sit down in the auditorium on the first day. 

Art follows lunch, like a dream follows a nightmare. My art teacher, Mr. Freeman, is ugly. He has a big old grasshopper body, like a stilt-walking circus guy. He makes us do an art project where we pick a topic and we have to make the object out of anything possible. We will spend the year doing this. My stomach fluttered while other people groaned. Can he really let us do this? It sounds like to much fun. I get to make a tree, but it seems to easy, but he didn't let me get a new one. My Spanish class is horrible. The teacher said she is going to go an entire year without speaking English to us. I wish this class would be as good as art.

First Day of School

So, today was the first day of high school at Merryweather High School. I entered high school with the wrong hair, the wrong clothes, the wrong attitude, and I didn't have anyone to sit with.

Us students at Merryweather High separate into 13 clans: Jocks, Country Clubbers, Idiot Savants, Cheerleaders, Human Waste, Eurotrash, Future Fascists of America, Big Hair Chix, the Marthas, Suffering Artists, Thespians, Goths, and Shedders. I am CLANLESS. My old clan, The Plain Janes, has splintered and the pieces are being absorbed by rival clans. Nicole lounges with the Jocks. Ivy floats between the Suffering Artists and the Thespians. I am OUTCAST.

Overall, my firsts day was horrible. I never ever want to go back, and I ESPECIALLY never want to see IT again.