Young Writers Society

Prologue

They always had to raise our hopes. Is that the way it is with adults? They get your hopes up, and then they watch you fall. We’ve been told our whole lives, “High school is going to be the best time of your life!” Well for me, Becky DaBushi (pronounced D-eh-Byu-see) it wasn’t going great for a while. It wasn’t even too nice on the first day! But the story comes later. First, let me tell you about myself.
Even though I go as Becky, I am NOT one of those preppy “look at tom and his new corvette” cheerleader types. I hate all shopping, except at my favorite store, Blazing Subject. This is a Goth place. Not that I’m Goth. I would describe myself more as… a hipster. I like vintage things. The Beatles, for instance, are my favorite band. I have like, five or six Beatles shirt. I wear thick glasses, like the kind you would get at a “real-D” movie. I do occasionally watch Chick Flicks and paint my nails, but that’s only when I’m home for a while, dead alone. It’s not like I do that a lot, and when I do, I paint my nails black. Blacker than midnight during a new moon. Or than Nelson Mandela. Not that I’m racist or anything. My best friend is half black. She often says those very words, “Blacker than Nelson Mandela.” Her name is Christie, and despite the name, she is not a prep, just like me. She has a brother, Christian, and two gay dads. I love her house, for all those reasons. She’s so ethnic, you know? Two gay men with two African-American children. It inspires me sometimes.
Also, I am a huge dork. I have a collection of those Chiquita Banana stickers. The kind that most normal people throw away. I even have one on the back of my iPlayer. Speaking of my iPlayer, it plays such things as a 300 violin orchestra and the Electric Light Orchestra. Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, you get the picture. Anyway, I should start the story now. Enjoy!