Hello. My name is Mary Sue Jones. I am currently enrolled in Tranquility High in Washington D.C. I'm a junior, taking too many classes to mention. Now I'm on my way to Social Sciences, my last hour, to see my best friend, Sam. But Trent shows up. I sigh, trying to walk past him, but he has other ideas.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Class," I answer, surprising even myself with my timidity.
He scowls, "Don't get smart with me, forest freak."
I roll my eyes. I am sooo tired of this. I retort, "Is that really the best insult you can come up with?"
Just then Mr McCarney shows up, "Okay, okay, break it up. Get to class people." Only then did I notice the sea of students surrounding us, who were now slowly walking away. I turn on my heel, and get to class. Sam is by the Mr Smith's door, waiting for me.
"What happened?" I shook my head. "Trent?" I sigh and nod. "Rough night?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "You look tired."
"I didn't sleep."
"The nightmare again?"
"Yeah." He looks at me sympathetically, as the bell rings. I have a nightmare of my twin sister. She gets hurt, and goes limp. Her body is damaged. No one can save her. Sam thinks she's dead. But she's very much alive, just not the way you'd think. I'll tell you later...maybe.
"Mr Witwicky?" Mr Smith says. "Your turn."
As Sam walks to the front of the class, I put my head on my bicep, take a deep breath, and relax my eyes, watching my white hair dance in front of my face. Yes, white. No, I didn't dye it. I was born with it. Mrs Witwicky calls me a snow angel. I smile at the thought of Sam's mother. She's nice, always caring. I'm about to fall asleep when the bell rings. I grab my things and start to leave, leaving Sam to fend for himself. I run outside to Mr Witwicky's car, smiling.
"Good afternoon, Mr Witwicky." He smiles at me. Ron is always nice to me.
"And to you too, Mary Sue." His pathetic attempt at a joke, but I laugh anyway. Anything to make him happy. I jump into the tiny backseat, as Sam runs out, clutching a paper. He falls on his face. Twice. I laugh, and he yells something about an 'A'.
"So, do I get my car?"
"Hold on, I can't see it...yeah." He nods as he looks at the very obviously reluctant 'A' written on the paper. Soon, we're driving through town, passing trucks, cars, bikes, and...a CAMARO! It's yellow, with black stripes down the hood. I've always loved Camaros. I probably know more about cars than Sam. No, I definitely do. I grin as we pull-up to a Porsche dealership.
"No! Dad, no, no, no! You've gotta be kidding me!" Sam practically jumps out of the car. He's smiling like an idiot, but it doesn't last very long.
"I am. I'm not getting you a Porsche for your first car!" I laugh.