Hey, my name's Rockie. Kinda awkward for a girl, don't you think? Yeah, I know. Like, what were my parents thinking when they named me after rocks? People at school mock me for it—they say I look like a rock.
Anyway, let's start from the beginning. You probably only know my name, but there's more to me than that. I'm fifteen, socially awkward (to say the least), and have zero communication skills—well, except with animals. Sometimes, I swear I can understand them. I love to believe it, even if I know it's not real.
Today is November 15, 2020. Mom dragged me out shopping again. I think she has low… never mind.
Have you ever wondered if you're the one without friends, or if friends just don't have you? I've always wanted to know. I seem to have answers for every question—except the ones about my own life. Weird, right? Someone once told me something really profound, and I just had to write it down:
"Do you have a best friend? Do you want to have a best friend? Are you a best friend to someone else?"
Five years have passed, and I've only been able to answer the first two questions:
"No." And "Yes."
But the last one? How am I supposed to know if I'm a friend to someone when no one even wants me as theirs?
They call me weirdo. Yeah, I remember now—the person who told me those words. Her name was Pride. And I loved her very much.
It's exactly 10:00 at night. Any minute now, Mom's going to come marching up the stairs to check if I'm still awake. But I already have a plan. I'll just shove my diary under my pillow until she's gone. Then, I'll keep writing.
Problem is… I think she already knows my plan.
Ugh. I can't believe tomorrow is Monday. The first day of school. Again. I actually enjoyed my holiday for once, and now it's over. I'd rather stay home, but of course, Mom insists I go.
Mothers. Always right about everything.
So… here we go.