Sample #1
Did I hate Kelly King, or did I just really, really dislike her?
Mom always said hate was a strong word.
I wasn’t quite sure what she meant, as she often said she “hated lima beans” or she “hated the way dad spat sunflower seeds all over the house”
When I told her I “hated Kelly King” she said shame on me, you know better, you shouldn’t be capable of hating anyone.
But here’s the thing,
Kelly King was the worst.
Kelly King, the blonde, pink, pretty girl who liked pink and pretty things.
Kelly King, the know it all, the brat, the intolerable gossip princess.
The snide, sneering, suck-up.
Kelly King tripped Trixie Turner in the hallway, even though Trixie Turner had crutches.
She poisoned Pete Pohler with peanut butter, knowing he was allergic.
Kelly King banished her best friend Bridget Bruncus for standing up to her.
Kelly King told me I was stupid, I was ugly, I was an accident.
I wondered if Kelly King felt stupid, or ugly, or like an accident.
I wondered if Kelly King liked herself, even a little bit, at all.
How could Kelly King like Kelly King?
She was awful.
I wondered if Kelly King was lonely.
One day I thought about this, sitting at the lunch table,
Watching Kelly King “accidentally” spill her pink milk on Louisa Labrenne.
Kelly King went off with her two friends and sat at their table.
They gabbed while she glared out into the lunchroom, her eyes squinted,
Ready to attack a wounded gazelle.
I don’t remember why, but I grabbed my Styrofoam tray of pickles and hamburger meat, and walked right up to her,
And sat right down,
Right in front of Kelly King.
I thought of my mother, my lima bean, sunflower seed hating mother, and said,
“Kelly King, would you like to have a sleepover?”
Kelly King looked struck,
Dumbfounded,
Caught off guard.
Then she smiled,
A sort of sneer, a sort of sweet, a sort of snide smile,
Opened her cup of strawberry yogurt,
And catapulted a plastic spoonful into my face.
I hated that pink, the sickly pale shade
That strawberry, too tart, acrid
That sour milk, foul taste of the yogurt
And yeah, I’m pretty sure I hated Kelly King too.
Sample #2
March 20, 2000
Do you know what Allie said today it in front of the whole class? I couldn’t believe it. She said that her mommy was so rich she could buy her two whole ponies if she wanted. Then she asked me how many ponies MY mommy could buy me if I wanted them.
I didn’t answer her because that was rude and also I was trying to listen to the teacher anyway. I also was thinking about lunch because it was personal pizza day and personal pizzas are my favorite. But anyway I do want ponies. I want three ponies. Albert, Dorrine, and Lu. Mom probably can’t buy me a half, even.
June 2nd, 2000
I had to go with Dad today to the car place. Dad drives a stinky mini van that’s kinda gray but kinda brown. It smells like rotten apples and bananas because that’s what we eat on road trips.
I hate going to the car place. There’s nothing to do. But it was ok this time because when Dad gave the Honda guys his stinky car to fix, he brought me to this place called the lounge. The lounge is the place where they have chairs and a TV and those oat-y granola bars. We were the only people in the whole lounge! Dad made up a game where he sits in one corner, and I sit in the other corner, and we try to see if we can throw the granola bar wrapper at each others heads. And I’m a really good thrower, he says! When we got the van back it still smelled bad.
Sample #3
Dear The Parents of Billy M. Buckley,
Hello. I am the Principal of Billy’s school and I need to write this letter to you so you know that
school is closed tomorrow.
School is closed tomorrow because the cafeteria caught on fire. The lunch lady Miss Penelope set
it on fire on accident when she was making meatloaf. So there’s no school tomorrow because the firemen will still be here, probably. It also means that there’s no science fair because the science fair was supposed to be in the cafeteria. It’s cancelled and Billy doesn’t need to finish the project because it’s cancelled. I was sure his volcano was going to win, so it’s too bad Miss Penelope set the cafeteria on fire.
From,
The Principal
P.S - Please sign here to promise not to take your son to school tomorrow, because it’s cancelled.
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