September 1st
Dear Diary,
I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!
And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I looked up from my diary at all my classmates. Some were chatting, some shoving others up against the lockers, some taunting others with crude names that I wouldn't dare say, and some whispering and pointing.

We were so tiny, happy and shiny.
Playing tag and getting chased.
Singing and clapping, laughing and napping.
Baking cookies, eating paste.

I paused in thought about how everyone had changed so drastically.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger.
Like the Huns invading Rome.

"Oh, Sorry!" I said when I bumped into someone, causing my pencil to draw a giant line on my page.

Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school:
This is the Thunderdome.

I once again paused in thought.

Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon.
College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

I took a breath, closing my eyes for a second, before continuing my entry.

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful.

I pray, I pray for a better way.If we changed back then, we could change again.We can be beautiful...

Just not today.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked a boy when I saw him get thrown against a locker and left.

"Get away, nerd." he scrunched his nose up.

"Oh- Okay..." I watched as he stood up and walked away.

Things will get better soon as my letter.
Comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown.
Wake from this coma, take my diploma.
Then I can blow this town.

Dream of ivy-covered walls and smoky French cafés

"Watch it!" I heard someone say as he walked to the end of the lunch line.

Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

By the time I had written that sentence, the guy had made it to my spot in line. He knocked my lunch tray, diary, and pencil out of my hands with one swing.

"Oops..." he said, not meaning it. Eugene Fitzherbert. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge jerk.

"What did you say to me, shrimp?"

Apparently I must've said some of that aloud... Oops...

"Aah, nothing." I sputtered out. Picking my stuff back up. As I got my food, and went to sit down, I thought about what I had written.

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful.

I pray, I pray for a better way.We were kind before, we can be kind once more.We can be beautiful...

As I was lost in thought, my friend, snuck up behind me, and tapped my shoulder.

"Ah!" I jumped slightly, "Hey, Raps."

"Hey." she replied. Rapunzel. My best friend since diapers.

"We on for movie night?" she asked as we sat down with our other friend, Cassandra.

"Yeah. Cass is on Jiffy Pop detail." I replied, reminding our friend of her job for movie night.

"I rented 'The Princess Bride'!" Raps said, excitedly.

"Ho-ho-ho. Again?" I laughed a bit.

"Wait. Don't you have it memorized by now?" Cass joined in on the light teasing.

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending." the golden-haired girl responded.

"Long-Hair! Here comes a hair cut!" another jock exclaimed (even though it made no sense what-so-ever), and knocked Rapunzel's tray off the table, then laughed. That was Lance Strongbow. Quarterback. He is the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

"Ha ha, alright!" he continued to laugh.

"Hey! Pick that up!" Cass stood up, "Right now!"

"I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?" Lance said back.

"Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend." she said, then I added my two cents in.

"You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant." I said. He was silent for a second, then spoke.

"You have a zit right there." he pointed to my forehead, pushed my head back and walked away. Everyone who was watching laughed. I pulled out my diary once more, writing down a single question.

Why?

I was sure that everyone on around me had there own version of this question.

Why do they hate me?

Why don't I fight back?

Why do I act like such a creep?

Why won't he date me?

Why did I hit him?

Why do I cry myself to sleep?

Somebody hug me!
Somebody fix me!
Somebody save me!
Send me a sign, God!
Give me some hope, here!
Something to live for!

I paused writing when I saw the cafeteria doors open out of the corner of my eye.

And there they were. The Populars. They float above it all.

The one in yellow. That's Catalina McNamara, head cheerleader. Her dad is loaded—he sells engagement rings.

The one in green is Kiera Duke, runs the yearbook. No discernible personality, but her mom does pay for her a new wardrobe each year.

And Stalyan Chandler, in red, the Almighty.
She is a mythic queen.

They're solid Teflon—never bothered, never harassed.
I would give anything to be like that.

Then, the sound of my classmates snapped me out of my thoughts. They were whispering things about the Populars.

"I'd like to be their boyfriend." a boy said.

"If I sat at their table, guys would notice me." a girl commented.

"I'd like them to be nicer." Raps said. I nodded in agreement.

Soon enough, lunch was over, and class had started, though I wasn't currently in it. I had gone to the bathroom, and guess who was in there. The Populars. At the moment I was in a stall writing in my diary. I heard one of them throw up, and my face contorted at the sound.

"Grow up, Kiera. Bulimia is so two years ago." I heard Stalyan say.

"Maybe you should see a doctor, Keira." I heard Catalina say sweetly.

"Yeah, Catalina. Maybe I should." I heard Kiera sass back. Then there were some steps. Teacher steps. I began forging a hall pass for all of us. Maybe I could get something out of this.

"Ah, Stalyan and Catalina," there was a pause in the teacher's word, and there was more throwing up, "...and Kiera. Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting. You're late for class."

"Kiera wasn't feeling well. We're helping her." I heard Stalyan.

"Not without a hall pass, you're not. Week's detention."

"Um, actually, Ms. Phantom, all four of us are out on a hall pass." I said, stepping out of the stall I was in, "Yearbook committee." I added, handing Ms. Phantom the forged note. She looked over it a bit, then spoke.

"...I see you're all listed. Hurry up and get where you're going" she said, then left.

"This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?" Stalyan asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Uh... (Y/n). (L/n). I crave a boon." I said, my breathing hitching.

"What boon?"

"Um." I took a breath, "Let me sit at your table, at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone..." the Populars laughed at me, and I added, "Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes."

"How about prescriptions?" Kiera asked.

"Shut up, Keira."

"Sorry, Stalyan."

"For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure." Stalyan commented, grabbing my face.

"And a symmetrical face. If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important." Catalina added quietly. They all nodded, and I looked in shock at the yellow-clad girl.

"Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds." Keira said walking over to us.

"And ya know, ya know, ya know?" Stalyan said to herself, "This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss. And we're on our way. Get this girl some blush. And Catalina, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful."

"Let's make her beautiful!" Catalina smiled.

"Let's make her beautiful." Kiera repeated.

"Okay?" Stalyan asked me.

"Okay!" I exclaimed at the thought of being one of the Populars. They then began giving me a complete makeover. I heard various things being said out in the hall.

"Out of my way, geek!"

"I don't want trouble.."

"You're gonna die at 3 pm!"

"Don't you dare touch me! Get away, pervert!"

"What did I ever do to them?"

"Who could survive this?" 

"I can't escape this!" 

"I think I'm dying!"

We stepped out into the hall.

"Who's that with Stalyan?" Ms. Phantom questioned, drawing all attention to us.

"Whoa." everyone gasped.

"Stalyan, Kiera, Catalina..."

"And someone!" somebody said.

"Stalyan, Kiera, Catalina..."

"And a babe!" two boys added.

"Stalyan, Kiera, Catalina..."

"(Y/n)?!" I heard Raps gasp, and everyone repeated her actions.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful!
You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way!
Ask me how it feels! It's beautiful!
I might be beautiful... 
And when you're beautiful...
It's a beautiful stinkin' day!!!