(Author's Note: This is fiction, not at all true.)
I am sitting at my desk at the moment, writing about everything that went wrong in my day. First of all, the boy I loved has rejected me and my parents think I'm an idiot because I failed the literacy test (on purpose, just to tick 'em off---school isn't challenging enough, might as well pretend it is and have a little fun, eh?). Oh, and my sister, Hannah, hates me because I stole her favorite dress to go to the school dance last Friday. Even my best friend, Cassie, hates me because, well, I don't really know why the heck she hates me. She's just a loser anyway. She's one of those kids to tries to be a nerd but they're not actually smart---Therefore, you have a goofy, suck-up-to-the-teachers-to-get-extra-marks type student. Everyone at my school is like that. No one is the least bit fun, wild or crazy. Dear Diary, if you could solve all my problems, you would be my hero, my God. Because, I think he even hates me too. I've prayed every night for things to get better, but you see, I think I am just too different. What should I do with myself? I need someone to talk to---no, I'm not a psycho, I do't need counciling, just a good friend. I guess you're all I've got at this point, Diary. Geez, aren't I lame? Writing all my problems in a freaking book! Well, Diary, if my life improves, I'll let you know. (Haha,) But for now, I'll just hope for the best.