I've always felt as if someone's been watching me. Not like God. Not like a desised family member, looking down on me with smiling eyes, but a person. An actual person, following me. Some might say I'm paranoid, others proably think I'm crazy. I think the same, however, soon I'll figure out how right I really am.
Through my past 12 years on this Earth I've learned a few things about popularity. 1: Don't be stupid. Acting stupid or retarted, talking to yourself or singing radomly, will automatically get you shunned from the rest of the school. Comfirming you invisabilaty. 2: Be funny. Try to let our your inner joker. That will get you in the in-crowd immiedietly! And 3: NEVER UPSET THE COOL KIDS! These guys have got everything! Nice clothes, money, looks, one look and you think, "Barbie."
Only one daring kid has ever upsetted the cool kids. Mark Brown. An average kid, walked in one day with a zit on his forhead. The perfect excuse for an attack of the cool crowd. They made fun of him all day until last bell. That was when Mark walked over to them with a feirce look on his face. "Why don't you all just shut up?" He yelled. Maria, the leader, put her hands on her hips, "Why don't you make me?" And now Mark is homeschooled. No one knows why though, they must have done something awful.
Now the reason I explain this to you is because I'm in middle school. The source of all drama. It's also the place where I first became the schools journalist. I had two collums in the weekly news paper. Ask Brooklyn, and Weekly Shine, with Brooklyn Wilson! My parents looked down upon me for this. They hated anything that made me stand out at all. If only I knew why. But I don't see them telling me that anytime soon, so I'm perfectly happy and quaint with my jounaling role. Today I would get to report my biggest scoop yet! I could see the papers now! Big bold letter printing, "New Quiellete Boy moves to Texas." Well I guess that's not really my biggest scoop, but to me it is. I get to interveiw an amazingly actractive boy! His name is Collin. He tells people that his "brothers" moved here too, whom are also native american.
As I walked to first peirod, I felt a pull, almost a tug toward the class next to me. And the paranoya got stronger. I walked passed the classroom quickly looking in. I was quickly drawn back. Luckily I had that teacher and thought of a question I could ask. "Ms. Erbenstein, I have a question." She looked at me, and from his seat, Collin stared, and my heart pounded. I continued on with my question, "When are we having that test?" She smiled, "Tomorrow sweet heart. Now you better get to class. You don't want to be late." I grinned, "No I do not ma'm." It felt like I was walking on air, knowing that next peirod I would get to interveiw Collin, and have him look at me for a solid hour.