September 1, 2009
Dear Diary,
Today I went to school. My ska-dju-al is all whacked-out. First, I have math. Then I have science. Then art. Then English. Lunch. Recess. Gym. Homework period (that’s when you work on your homework). Then wonderful end of day. Now I’m goin’ to 6th Grade. That means less Recess, and a TON of more homework. Usually the teachers from 5th Grade to lower don’t give you work on the first day. We got work. T’aint fair. Plus, we have the same classes every day. Really boring.
My class has Suzy, Jane, Walter, Rodger, Betty, Jim, Charlie, Molly, and me. In class, I have to sit in the front. That means kids throw papers at me sayin’ that I’m a dork and they’ll spit spitballs in my head. And the teacher will blame it all on me for ‘disruptin’ the class’. If you get in trouble with the teachers three times in one week, they’ll send you to the principals. I go there every day, ‘cause the kids blame everything that happens on me. If Suzy and Rodger get into a fight, they blame Jane, then Jane blames Walter, then Walter blames Betty, then Betty blames Molly, so on and so forth, until it gets to me. Ma says never to lie, so when they ask if I did it, I say no. They call me a liar, and I get blamed. Sometimes, I want to take a cake and shove it in their puffy, sneerin’ faces. It makes me sick to watch them.
Lunch is one of my favorite periods. People sit away from me. They may call me names, but they never do anything. The cook saves my food from bein’ destroyed from those kids. She’s real nice. I don’t see why the kids don’t like her. Today we had chicken stew. Cook gave me a slice of garlic bread to go with it. Nobody saw. I gulped it down. Yum.
We also had a newbie here today. That’s a new kid in the class. Now usually new kids are fun until the others warn them of me, but this one wasn’t. He said his name was Billy. I call him bully. That’s what he was. He went around the entire playground and beat me up. I tried to tell the teachers, but they said I had fallen on the ground and blamed it on the new kid. That was my second time in trouble.
Gym teacher knows I have a disadvantage. He calls me weak and pathetic. I’d like to break his two front teeth. Worst thing is, he does it in front of the other teachers too, and they don’t seem to mind. He teases, but if I backtalk him, he’ll have me in the principals in no time flat. I hate school. The principal used to be nice, but she was replaced a year ago. Now this one’s all hard and crusty on the outside. He’s rotten as a rotted fish on the inside. He calls me dumb in the teachers lounge. I heard him. He’s real mean.
Usually at the end of the day, I go home. Ma signed me up for track. I hate track. Now the teacher here is a lot nicer. I like her, but I just hate runnin’. I just stretched and ran. I came in last, as usual. More runnin’. Good thing I only have this on Mondays and Thursdays.
When I came home, Quiz was lyin’ on his side. Just pantin’. I ruffled his head and asked him what he’d been doin’ that made him so darned tired. He looked at me. Then closed his eyes and fell asleep. He’s so funny sometimes. Ma came over and said she had to tell me somethin’. I came to the kitchen. Here’s what she said: ‘Remember when we got Quiz?’ I nodded. ‘Well, remember when the pet owner said he was a good little boy?’ I nodded again. ‘Well…’ she turned away. ‘He made a mistake. Quiz isn’t a boy, Tristan. She’s a girl.’ At that point, my jaw hit the table. ‘She’s also carryin’ a baby with her.’ My jaw hit the floor. I asked her why she’s sick. Ma said that’s what a baby does. I can’t wait to have a puppy!
Tomorrow is another day. I hate school. I hope an explosion destroys the school.
Tristan Sandstone,
Resident of Montgomery, Alabama
578 Milkway Street, 98302
Allahmaya9638 Community Member 
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