I Wonder Who Are the Pretenders and Why

April 7, 2012
By Anonymous

I usually can’t remember anything from when I first wake up but I remember this morning better than most because when I looked in the mirror that morning I realized that the teal in my hair had faded into a horrendous shade of gray. It was the morning of my first day of high school ever and I hoped that my therapist was right when she said that someone nice would sit down next to me at lunch and start a friendly conversation about my Pokémon bracelet or my new shoes or something. I hoped she was right when she said that the girls from the other four middle schools, the girls who wouldn’t remember me solely as the girl who was a freak of nature and got panic attacks in class, would over time think I’m cool and want to be my friend and maybe I could invite them to come over after school and they could teach me how to paint my nails and maybe I could teach them how to do death by fatality in Mortal Kombat. Everyone at my middle school said I was a lesbian because when Daniel asked me out I called him a sleeze and told him to move because he was blocking my locker and when he tried to grind on me at the school dance I gave him a black eye and kicked him in his weak spot like my dad taught me to do if I got raped. In my defense, I am the height of the average eight year old and Daniel Fitzpatrick was supposed to be a junior in high school then. Now he goes to an alternate school where he can graduate this year as he was supposed to before he became dumb and grinded on girls three years his junior at the school dance. I don’t really find anyone attractive. Not boys, not girls, not even me. My grandma thinks I’m so beautiful and tells me all the time and pinches my cheeks but I mean that I don’t see it in myself even though one time at the mall, a boy ran by and grabbed me in an inappropriate place and I cried so hard even though my mom told me it isn’t my fault. I hoped so much that no boy would pull that on me at high school. I hoped that everyone would be mature and in case nobody sat down next to me at lunch at least there would be someone who I could ask if I could sit at their table and they would say yes.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!