The Beginning.

  My name is Margaret Johnson. I am currently in the eleventh grade but that’s not where this story begins. It begins in the sixth grade when I was the new girl at McPherson junior high. Here, let me take you back:

February 28, 2005

“But why mom? Why can’t I start some other day like next week?” I whined.

Margaret Emily Johnson! You have to go to school! Now get in the car right now, or else you will be grounded until your birthday in May!” My mother almost shouted, getting impatient. I groaned but did as she said. I didn’t want to be grounded until my twelfth birthday. I was a late baby, and each year I was almost the shortest kid in class. I was always being ridiculed but I learned to live with it. My father had died a few  months earlier so my mom and I moved to a small town on a lake in Massachusetts. Ick. I was used to the hot summers of Florida and the comforting ocean breezes.

I dragged my feet to the car. Today wasn’t my day. First, I fell off my new loft bed(ouch). Then, I spilled soggy cereal on my favorite baby blue shirt. Also, when I woke up, my long, wavy (almost curly), dark brown hair was everywhere so I had to settle with a messy ponytail. I hated today. It was my first day and I hadn’t met a single one of my peers. I climbed into the front seat of the car.

“Honey! You can’t sit in the front! You’re too small.” my mother said on the verge of yelling. She gave me the move-right-now glare so I settled in the back.

I crossed by arms over my flat chest. “I’m eleven! I don’t see what the problem is. Everyone back home got to ride in the front!” I said, getting into the habit of whining. Mom turned around and glared again.

“NO!” and she sped off ignoring my protests.

We arrived at McPherson Junior High. I sighed. Back home, sixth grade was still part of elementary school, adding to my feeling of being alone. Mom handed me my schedule. “Got to the front office and they will help you out. I promise everything will be alright.” she leaned back and kissed my cheek. “Have fun!” she called as I walked toward the humongous school. I sighed again, as if trying to prove a point.