I'm going to Hell. There's no doubt behind that. I've had a few people try to convince me otherwise, but honestly, I'm not stupid. I'm going to Hell and I know it. I've come to terms with that, though.

So why's a cute little girly-girl like me going to Hell? I'm not a goddamn cute little girly-girl, that's why. I don't know why people insist on believing that. I mean, really now. I'm a lot stronger than I look. Just because I don't go work out every day doesn't mean I'm weak. Many people learn this the hard way.

There's more reasoning than that for me being condemned to Hell, really. I tend to be a bitch to most people, even my supposed "best friends." Honestly, they aren't very nice to me to start with, so why should I be nice to them, right? Oh yeah, the golden rule. They taught me that at church in like, fourth grade. I used to believe in it, too. Now I believe it's a pile of shit. No matter how many times you put on your turn signal to change lanes, other people will continuously cut you off. Yes, I did, in fact, go to church. But then again, that's back before I became me. I would go for two sole reasons: my friends went and my mother made me.

Speaking of my mother, I'm pretty sure she (along with the rest of my family) is the one who condemned me to Hell. She doesn't like me. I don't think my father does either, really. One day, back sometime during my freshman year, my father said, and I quote, "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one." How does one take that? Should I have said "thank you," or something along those lines? And for the record, I had like, three B's and three A's. Yeah, I'm a real dipshit, aren't I?

Not only does my family believe me to be stupid, but they must also believe me to be friendless. You know the worst thing about turning sixteen? Your grandmother calling on your birthday and saying, "So you're sixteen and never been kissed." Thanks, Grandma. That doesn't make me think my life sucks at all. Seriously now, how does a grandmother say that? To be fair, no, I hadn't been kissed, but that's beside the point. The worst part is that it's not just my grandmother thinking I'm the biggest loner to grace the planet Earth. No, it's my entire family, as if any of them have room to talk. My mother has no friends. My father has one friend. Every sister I have is a whore (and friendless, unless you count their significant others and children). My brother's life resolves around World of Warcraft and Halo. My sister and my brother-in-law are in love with WoW, too. And yet, I'm the lame one in the family. They all think my music is weird and that I listen to it too loud. My mother wants me to go to Hell because I listen to music loud when I drive. Just for the record, so does she.

I'm sure there are other reasons I'm being sent to Hell, where I shall one day meet the rest of my family (and most of my friends, too). It could be the fact that I think religion is stupid and I haven't set foot in a church since sixth grade. Maybe it's because I dyed my hair purple. It could also be the eyeliner I occasionally wear. But that shouldn't condemn me to Hell, right? It's got to be something else, right? Maybe I've killed too many trees in my lifetime. Maybe I shouldn't have considered rear-ending that minivan yesterday. I don't know why, but I know that I'm going to Hell someday. Perhaps we'll meet each other there.

So, I'm a senior now, right? I should be excited that I'm graduating in like, five months or whatever. I'm totally not, though. I'm actually dreading walking across that stage. First, if I trip, it gives my family the right to mock of me for all of eternity. Second, what if I never see my friends again? I mean, we aren't going somewhere together, and I know that for sure. Third, what if I mysteriously fail English and I don't get to graduate? What happens then?

You might think I'm being a little overdramatic, but that's because I am. Firstly, I'm sure the guy behind me in line as we cross the stage won't let me fall. Secondly, I will see my friends again because I'd die without them. Thirdly, I can't fail English as it's my native language. Not that that has stopped so many of my friends before me.

Well, I've finished a semester of this dreaded year, and holy shit, I'm surprised I didn't die. Do you know how stressful calculus is? Well, I'll tell you. I'd go to my friend's house maybe every other day to do our homework. We'd spend three hours at least on it. Most of the time, we wouldn't finish it. Not that this is a good excuse, but I used it as one to not to my English homework. I haven't gotten my semester grades yet, but I'm pretty sure I managed a C in that class. Anything better and I'll be shocked. I'm sure I'll get another "you-can-do-better-than-this" speech. In all honesty, I know I could but I lack any real motivation to do better. That's depressing, isn't it?

Let's see, I have two months and five days until I'm eighteen. I'm convinced that I will graduate high school without ever obtaining a real kiss. (My friends decided that a gay guy kissing me during truth or dare didn't count.) I should tell my mom that I'm getting laid by this drummer in band. I could possibly get him to go along with it, too.

Yet another reason to send me to Hell, I do believe. I'm coming up with plans to give my mother a heart attack. Chances are she already has lung cancer. She knows smoking is deathly, and yet, she continues to do it. She doesn't realize it's stupid for two main reasons: lung cancer and she's broke half the time. I think she wants to kick me out, but that she fears I'd live on the streets. Again with her thinking I'm friendless.

So, I've decided that I need my own love story. I just don't know how I'm going to come by one. It's not as if I'm interested in any guys (besides the drummer). So what do I do in the mean time? I'll come up with my own story because fantasy is just always better than the reality.