Wizard Hunter
Chapter 1: My Name is Kenny McCallister
Diary Entry Monday June 3rd 1991.
My diary, as the only object I can confide in: First Entry.
I don't know why, but somehow, I ended up in an Elementary school. I am in fifth grade, and my name is Kenny McCallister. It's kind of pointless. I am ridiculed for thinking this, but what if we didn't have names? Kind of pointless, huh? As a matter of fact, for a nine year-old, I have no friends. Did I say nine? Believe me, I am not joking. I am nine in an older grade full of ten year-olds. Well, what can I say? I'm smart. I was moved up a grade. I was moved from a class with all my friends to a class of people I don't know, and people who think I'm a freak.
My only friend is someone who actually looks a bit like me. Well, maybe not exactly like me. Let's see, I'm short and skinny, and have blond hair, very few freckles, and skin quite fair. My voice is usually shaky, like I'm nervous, but I really am quite calm. It's just my voice. It's one of the things people laugh about. Sometimes, they ask me, sarcastically or sympathetically, if I'm gonna cry.
Now, my friend is different. My friend is not so skinny. Well, ok, I'm not saying he's fat. I'm actually a bit skinnier. He's actually quite healthy looking. At least more so than me. He too has blond hair, but absolutely no freckles. He claims to have a lost brother, but I don't really ask him about it. What do I care? I don't really know much, because his parents split up when he was two. Ok, this will mean a whole other story.
I know this, because this guy is a real blabber mouth. See, his parents split up when he was two, like I said. His little brother was a year younger than him. Now, one parent, I'm not sure which, could handle a child, but not two. The other couldn't handle any. So, they did the stupidest thing ever. I mean it. It was stupid. What do I care though? Anyway, I digress. They did the stupidest thing any couple of parents could do. They gave one up to an orphanage. Then, three years ago, they met again, and they had a little Parent Trap incident, minus the twins. They got back together. But get this. They didn't bother to look for their youngest child.
That reminds me though. Did I say I'm adopted? Yeah. I was separated from my parents when I was one, and was adopted when I was three. Kinda dumb, huh? I'd like to meet my friend's lost brother one day. We might be alike, and we'd understand each other better.
Well, I might adopt my own child one day. I'm only nine, but a kid can dream, can't he? Now, I already said we're in the same grade. Get this. Our bitch of a teacher, (yeah, I swear, wanna challenge me?) wants us to write a damn report. Some report on something we feel. I'd like to write my feelings, and maybe the bitch, or some of the students, will feel for me. Or, maybe they won't. After all it is a long shot. One problem. My friend doesn't feel that way, and I'm working with him in pairs. He hopes for something imaginative. I never had great imagination. What else are we supposed to write about? We're supposed to present the topic and report after the weekend.
Still, despite all the flaws this blabber mouth has, I call him my best friend, and I wanna grow up with him, and be friends with him forever, because he's great and he really does care, though quite pompous. His name is Ernie McMillan and this is my- or probably our- story of how we cope with fifth grade. There's one freaky prodigy on one side, and another normal boy on the other.
Yours,
Kenny McCallister