Mostly Living

Love

No one knows how or why Molly Erikson changed. Well, except me. I am her best friend. I am the only person that really knew her before her transformation.

So, here's exactly what Molly told me. I swear on my grave:

My name is Molly Erikson. I am student council president, captain of the tennis team, a part of nearly every club exsisting at Washington High School, and leading the school in highest GPA ever to be on record. Everyone looks at me and assumes that they know exactly who I am and what I like and what I'm going to do in the future. Yesterday, they may have been right, but today, they are wrong.

Winter break was over and the second semester had finally arrived. I was known as the school nerd, but I became kind of popular because of it. Almost everyone knew my name because of the pictures of me in the school newspaper for awards, and because of people always talking and gossiping. You know how high school girls are: they're relentless. They won't stop until they get what they want, and then that's not enough. It's a crazy lifestyle to live and I've never been able to fit into it because I just never understood people like them.

I am a person that likes things that have rules, organization, and instruction. Unfortunately, there are no textbooks or instructions manuals on how to fit in with everyone else.

Being a student like me, I waste no time in the halls during passing period because I find no need to. I can't risk being late, and I don't want to miss one second of class. So, I was in my English classroom for a while. The passing periods are five minutes, but the bell hasn't even rung yet and I've been there for four minutes. I made small chit-chat with my new teacher and located my ideal seat.

I am also the kind of person that likes sitting in the front of the classroom. Having a good view of the room and being close to the teacher is important. It's the first rule of being a good student. So evidently, I was sitting in the desk not exactly in the middle of the room, but one over to the right. This way, I can see both the whiteboard in the front of the room and the projector on the side wall perfectly. I had the best seat in the house.

Looking around and patiently waiting for my classmates to join me in the classroom, I noticed a red notebook on the desk to my left, the one that is in the front-row center of the classroom. At first, I didn't think that anyone would notice if I picked it up. Maybe it had some notes from this class in it? It could be useful to me.

What this journal ended up being changed my life. It was a guide. Addressed to me.

Well, I guess it wasn't addressed to me exactly, but it was meant for people like me. People who centered themselves around their schoolwork, unlike the typical teenager.

You see, I've never kissed a boy or even had a boyfriend. I don't know why, I guess I never wanted to be that kind of person. I just didn't want people to think I didn't care about my schoolwork anymore.

Inside the journal is very much like reading instructions, only it's in the form of a diary. (I guess it's like what I'm doing right now). The words were magical and extremely meaningful. I knew nearly every word in the dictionary, but these kinds of beautiful words couldn't be defined.

The school bell seemed to ring louder and longer than usual on January 4th in my senior year of high school. I was always used to predicting exactly when it would go off. I was always expecting what was going to happen. I always knew. Always. There were never any surprises. The first surprise I had encountered was the class bell in first period English. I was too busy reading the journal; I couldn't take my eyes off of it. It seemed to be calling my name.

Let me get this straight--I have NEVER stolen anything; this notebook was the first. I felt a surge of power and relief. I felt like a teenager.