Author’s Note: Right, so, I would LOVE to put a story on fictionpress. But I typically end up starting things, getting part of the way through them, and losing inspiration and ditching them. This is just a nice little attempt at something that I HOPE I WILL MANAGE TO FINISH! Sorry. I’m not crazy, I swear. By the way, the more reviews I get, the more inspiration I can manage to find. And suggestions would be lovely, if you feel so inclined.

11:57 pm

I should be asleep right now, but I couldn’t sleep if I tried. I’m supposed to start a “new life” tomorrow, at a new school, with load of spoiled, rich brats who haven’t the foggiest clue who I am. In my own personal opinion, there was nothing wrong with my old life, but that was the bit of good news my parents thought would send me rushing for school in the morning. They’re like, “Honey, no one knows you there. It’ll be a chance to start fresh! You’ll make new friends and have so many more opportunities!” Yeah. No one knows me there. Thrilling. No one has a reason to get to know me there, either.

Did I mention that this is a boarding school? No? Odd, I would’ve thought that that would be the first thing I’d say. But my parents still think that where we used to live, out in the boondocks of good old NJ, “incompetent teachers and pointless classes” were wasting my “academic and musical talent.” So, for no other apparent reason (though my mom did mention that it was slightly frightening to her that I haven’t yet had a boyfriend; thanks, mom,) we uprooted and moved to New York. And now I’m being forced to attend some stuffy New York boarding school.

I must have also forgotten to write that tomorrow is my first day at said stuffy New York boarding school. I’m going to vomit.

All right, perhaps not. But still, it turns out I’ve forgotten that this is one of those free-to-be-yourself bull crap places, and I haven’t got an outfit picked yet! What does one wear to a boarding school? They are probably all going to think that I am some farmer who milks cows and feeds chickens and…okay, starting to feel nauseous again. Please hold; I’ve got to go rip my closet apart as quietly as possible so that I don’t wake anyone up and choose an outfit.

I’m back. Negative on the outfit front; Mom heard me moving around and screamed for me to go to bed. So, I still have nothing. Except two possible pairs of pants; I just have to pick one.

1:25 am

What if everyone hates me? I’m horrible at first impressions!!!!

2:00 am

I bet I’m really far behind and I’ll fail out in my first marking period…. I can’t breathe…

2:30 am

I just got up to pee, looked in the mirror and realized that I look like a man. Freaking great. So now I’m practically glued to the bathroom mirror, trying to pluck my eyebrows. Because there is no way I’m going to school tomorrow looking like a prepubescent member of a has-been boy band. Maybe I’ll wear a dress tomorrow. That way it’s obvious that I’m not, in fact, a prepubescent member of a has-been boy band. I hope. Maybe then I’ll just look like a drag queen. That’s all I need.

AN: Okay, there’s the prologue. Short, I know, but it will get longer from here. Review, please!