[Hello? Is this working? Testing, testing; one, two, three. I think it's working. Okay. Here we go.]

I've always known I was different. Besides the fact that' I'm adopted and that I failed most of my classes this year, it's something inside me that I can't really point out.

I'm Electra Dempsey, age seventeen.

Now, please don't start going around thinking that I'm weird because my name's weird. Well, to tell the truth, it is kinda strange. I don't even know why Bob and Elaine named be Electra (Excuse me. I should explain that. Bob and Elaine are my adoptive parents, but I'd rather call them by their first names). I mean, seriously. Who names a baby after an ancient Greek madwoman (who is definitely dead by now) who killed her own mom? If you ask me, that's just plain wrong.

I was adopted seventeen years ago in an orphanage in Manhattan. My birthday was June 1st,, or that's the date that Elaine picked . I don't know anything about my parents except that they just decided that they loved me so much, they dropped me on the doorstep of the orphanage, leaving me to die. (Sympathy and pity are very much appreciated at this point. Some sniffling and tears would be treasured forever.)

Anyway, two years after Bob brought me home, Elaine got pregnant. On February 14th, Valentine's Day, the horror burst into my life. Miss Goody Two-Shoes barged into my existence, making it miserable (not saying that it was already miserable before). It was Kelsey.

Kelsey. Kelsey Dempsey. The name sounds harmless, doesn't it? Well, give me a break! You wouldn't believe what that stinkin', no-good-at-all –uh…I mean…that…person can do. Kelsey has wavy blond hair and pale blue eyes; a big contrast to my rusty reddish-brown hair and grassy green eyes. Obviously, besides being a drama queen, she's the most popular kid in her grade. Of course almost every boy likes her and makes those silly goo-goo eyes. Her eyes may be pretty, like a princess', but I'm telling you, ice princesses are nasty, and she is definitely an ice princess. And let me tell you, ice don't play nice, and never gunna play nice.

She's dated at least 17 boys in three months, since the fall head-over-heels over her killer looks. Just one toss of her vanilla-scented blond hair makes them drool. (Excuse me. I think I'm gonna puke.) It's just funny watching them fall for her and scrambling to be the first to please her. And then when she breaks their heart, that's the best part. They actually come to me bawling and ask how to mend their hearts again and make it up to Kelsey, and that's when I tell them to stop crying like a baby, leave me alone, and get a life. Believe me, their reaction is hilarious.

Kelsey is a true nightmare. I can't even believe that Bob spoils her like crazy. There was this one time where she was in my room, sneaking around in my stuff. And then she took Bob's phone, one of Elaine's real 24-carat gold diamond ring, and her iPod…and stuffed them in my backpack. She went to Bob complaining that her iPod was missing. Bob complained that his phone was missing. Elaine shrieked when she discovered that the ring was lost. It was a total disaster. (Except the part when Elaine screamed. I have to admit, that was funny.) I ended up being grounded for the rest of the year, had to pay five hundred dollars, and had my iPod taken away until March. All that time, Boo-Hoo Mommy was crying. If she cried any more, her eyes would have been dry. As she walked out of the room, I glared at her, and she waved her hand, grinning evilly. I should have punched her just then.

Me? Well, I know for one thing that I'm not like Miss Prissy. We have nothing in common. As I said before, my copper hair doesn't always cope. My eyes are the only thing I like about myself, I guess. They're a startling green. They're not the deep pine color, or like the light emerald. My eyes are…I guess they are the color of grass. Spring grass.

I'm not so skinny like Kelsey that I literally starve myself to death, but I'm not fat either. I'm just in the middle. Plain looking. I guess there's nothing really special about my life, but that depends on your definition of 'special'. Currently, I'm not dating anybody (and I'm not hoping on it). I'm different from most people. I'm like the outcast.

I don't have any friends. Well, not true friends. There are a few girls that I hang out with sometimes, but they're Goth and like to hang out at night at weird places. I don't think I could pass for Goth, but I can't exactly pass for normal either. I like wearing baggy t-shirts to sleep with sweatpants. For the day, I usually wear another t-shirt and jeans with beaten-up sneakers.

I think that's enough about me so far. I'm laying too much empathy on myself already when I haven't even started talking about my life at high school. This is my story…