Oh wow. Just when I thought life couldn't get any worse, it does. Actually, rather than getting just a little bit worse, it gets a hell of a lot worse. Like, so much worse it makes a girl want to jump off the top of the Empire State Building just to see if she'll survive the drop.

Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating. I'm known to do that at times. But if this were just one bad event in my life than I'd accept it and move one. But it's not just one bad event, it's a bad event in a great big chain of bad events that people refer to as life. Apparently there's meant to be good events mixed in with the bad events, but that just ain't happening. Not for me anyway. All I get is the bad stuff.

"I'm sorry Alexandra dear, but there's nothing I can do. You're going to have to get thicker glasses. These ones just aren't strong enough anymore."

Yeah, yeah. So I made it sound like some kind of major crisis. Well it is! Other than already being extremely visually challenged, I'm a six foot monster with frizzy mouse brown hair, absolutely no fashion taste, no talents and no attractive features at all! And now some optometrist is telling me that my already thick glasses are going to get even thicker. Why don't they just attach two magnifying glasses together and stick 'em to my forehead?

I sigh and answer Mr. Wagner, the optometrist.


He smiles encouragingly at me as I wallow in my self-pity and answer lots of stupid questions like:

"Which one looks clearer? The one on the blue, or the one the one on the yellow?"

Quite frankly, who cares? Either way I still have to get thicker glasses. There is a slight upside to all this however, the thicker the glasses, the less of my hideous face you get to see.

I bail out of the optometrists and head for 'Newton State High School'. Why oh why must I go to a state school? State school means no uniforms, which would be cool. If I actually had decent clothes to wear. Actually, even if I had decent clothes than I'd still look like crap.

I look down at today's disastrous clothing choice. Faded black cargo's and a baggy green sweater. I have no taste. I look like one of the 'before' photo's on one of those 'Ricky Lake Makeover Specials'. Only with me there ain't gonna be some glittering model as an 'after'. I lead a sad, sad life.

I hand the late slip to my teacher and slide into my seat in the middle of the room. I'm surrounded by the usual people, Amy, Kathy, Clarissa and Jude. Don't think these people are my friends. Oh no. They are just fellow losers, stuck in the middle of the classroom because we're not cool enough for the back and not smart enough for the front. You'd think we'd bond because we're all freaks, but even they isolate me.

To everyone in this school I'm invisible. And that's exactly what I'm trying to be. If I ever do get noticed, nothing good comes of it. Ever. Once the most popular girls in our school, Tessa, talked to me. It wasn't pretty (unlike her). I believe her exact words were:

"Don't even think about sitting here freak. This seat is reserved for people who have a life. Unlike you Alexandra."

She was referring to the only empty seat on the bus. I ended up standing the whole way home. Thankfully we moved the day after that, so I've never had to go through it again. But ever since that day I've tried to be invisible. If they can't see me, they can't hurt me. That's the theory anyway, but sometimes it doesn't work. Like right now for example.

"Hey Frizzball, move your great big head. I can't see the board." Tessa yells across the classroom.

I sink lower in my seat, my face heating up.

Why oh why have I been cursed with this great big head of frizzy hair, these huge glasses and a body that nearly qualifies as gigantic?

I'm the ugliest thing I've ever seen.