Hai! Saltpath here! So, I was bored last night (Like MIDNIGHT!) so I wrote this. It's about a half-blood who thinks she's going insane. If anyone likes it, I'll start writing about how she goes to camp half-blood in third person! I know that I probably got half the grammar wrong, and the story's going nowhere (For now! _), but please give it a go!

I don't know why I'm actually writing this. They told me I didn't have to. That they weren't forcing me to do this. They always insist they aren't forcing me to do anything. I know better. They are subconsciously making me WANT to write it. I'm not stupid. Normally I don't fall for it. Today... I did, but it's because I want to. I've always wanted to keep a diary. But... Why I'm actually doing it... I don't KNOW, OK!

A diary. Sure. So. What do I write? Ugh. I just chewed my pen. I'm such a geek. That's what they call me at school, anyway. I don't understand all the stereotypes about bullies. About how they're huge towering mountains of flesh or tall, willowy trees. Nah, not willowy trees, willow trees. I mean, compared to the stereotypes of the female bully, they're identical. Both stick thin, (Literally, in the trees' case), and they each have long lush strands coming out of the top. Meh. Those types don't tend to bother with me.

My "Personal bully" is about the size of a dwarf and twice as plump. Her hair...It's like one of those creepy puppets you get with the occasional threadbare piece of wool sticking out. Do you know? Or don't you? Maybe the orphanage is the only place on the planet where they stock them. I don't know who I'm addressing this to, but it's almost like someone's going to read it. If you're reading this, shut this RIGHT NOW! How would you like it if I... OK, I'm scaring myself now. Nobody will ever find this or read this. I hope the monsters don't. At night, they come looking for me. In daylight too, but nobody notices. It's one of the reasons I get bullied by a girl who's a victim herself! I see them though. The man at the gates with only one eye. The woman who I ran from. She had snakes for hair.

I think I'm insane. Why else would I need an army of counsellors? A... Helper. They think I'm special needs. I only have minor ADHD! They don't need to...

This is too depressing. I can't write any more in case they get rid of it.

Geek out.

Or should I say – or write, whatever! – This?

Thistle out...?

Beats me. OK, here's something.

Sharp out!

Yeah. Thistle Sharp. I'm soft as feathers! My name's a joke!

I'm a joke.

My life's a joke.