My Sanity

November 12, 2005

She smiled- a smile worth a million and one words. Her smile always made everyone else smile, even if all they wanted to do was cry. She was friends with everyone, even if they do not want to be her friend. ‘Just because I’m popular doesn’t mean I only think of myself and other popular people. Popular is just a word, and nothing more…To me, everyone is popular!’ were her exact words during her speech for president of our class. The popular kids did not agree with her, but they still voted for her. Besides, it was either her, a nerd or a regular.

It sometimes feels like she is hypocritical. I’ve never seen her hang around nerds or freaks-never, and yet she claims to see them as equals. It makes people wonder, especially the lower class grades-men, as the popular kids call us.

However, enough about her, let me tell you all a little about myself. My name is Nathaniel, Nath for short. I’m 16 and a sophomore in my high school. I’m top student in my class, but at first sight, you would never know it. I hang out with my two best friends, Danny and Matthew, who are very smart, but you can always tell they are nerdy types.

I am not ashamed of them, unlike how our other friends were, who became popular once they hit 9th grade.
Sometimes I feel like I don’t belong with anyone. You see, in my class we sadly have clicks. I can go in every click and feel at home, but none feels right. I’m smart like the math, chess, science, and all those other school type clicks. Now don’t get these confused with clubs, these are groups who only talk about those courses everyday.

There are also the gothic people. Not a lot, but still. They creep me out, but sometimes I can relate to them. The punks, bullies, wanna-bes, same story, I can be all of those if I wanted to, but you know. It’s not really my style. Popularity, on the other hand, is not that hard. To me, my friends are popular, and the actual popular kids are the freaks. Yeah, well….Heheh, it’s not like you have to be all that to be popular. If I got the right clothes, I could pass as popular.

Those clicks are the most common in my class, but there are the smaller clicks like the Anime Freaks, who love anime, soccer/other ball type games freaks, who you should get the picture about, the skaters, who aren’t to bright but still are cool, and the regulars, like myself, who aren’t in any group and just go to each one trying to find there place.

Among the clicks there are sub clicks, like the cheerleaders and jocks are subs in the popularity, and the emos are subs for the Goths, and so on so forth. My friends want me in there click, but being around other nerds like myself make me feel stupid. Yes, I consider my self a nerd and it sound weird, being around fellow nerds makes me feel stupid, but it does.

I see I’ve come off topic, well anyway, were was I…Oh yes; I have wavy brown hair, with crazy bangs that never stay out of my eyes and green eyes that stand out through my bangs. I use to have glasses, but after awhile my eyes got better and the use for them was no more. I’m at an average height and normal weight for my age and so far, this whole school ear, the two months so far, have been great.

Of course, she won the election for class president, by a landslide. I mean its not that’s she is dumb, far from it, but probably everyone voted for her. I feel bad for the other two, but they were good sports and didn’t protest.
Oh yeah, I never told you her name. Her name is Angle, just like her beauty and personality.

Yeah, but anyway, let me tell you about the history of why I have to write in this journal. You see, it’s because my mother died while giving birth to me. Therefore, I grew up in this big city with only my dad until I was 14. He then was sent away because he was an abusive father, and well… you should get the picture.

Then again, I was to write down everything that comes to mind, so I’ll te- no… I can’t bring myself to write it. That night was the most painful night I ever experienced with him being abusive. That night is the reason I am being forced to write in this accursed journal. Then again, no one is going to see this, but my therapist, but he already knows the story.

It is just very hard to write this, you know. I know I am 16 and it has been two years, and I have finally agreed to start a journal, but its still is painful. It’s somewhat funny though, it took me two years to finally write a journal, only because it was only a month ago that my father died in prison. He might have been abusive but he was still my father.
The docs said if I write down stuff it’ll help me with my emotional pain and problems, and help me forget the past…. Hah… Right now all I can think about it the past. Maybe I am not doing this right or something…or maybe I’m just down right crazy and stuff.

Well, let’s hope not. I really don’t want to live in a world with psychos. It gives my chills just thinking about it.
I’ve been living with my uncle since my dad was taken away. He is really nice, and so is my aunt, but he reminds my of my dad so much. I guess it doesn’t help that they were brothers. My aunt seems to be very spacey, and also never around when I need to talk. Another reason why my therapist tried to sucker me into this journal.

Right now, I don’t care if he ever decides to read these for his studies or what ever; I need to say this about him right now! YOU FUCKING SUCK BALLS!


Yeah, I said…well wrote it. That felt good. Goddamn it. You know what, I can’t deal with this. The memories of that night are too much to write right now. If they don’t go away, I’ll think of something. How do I even end a journal? Seems like if I just stop it’ll be empty. Goddamn it. I’m just going to sign it as I do my letters.


-Nathaniel