I'm Not Exactly Sure

Entry 1: What's the date?

I think it's August 16th. Yeah, we'll go with that. Currently, I'm holed up in my bedroom writing this on my phone. It's 10 : 54 p.m. EST (I think??), and I have to get up at 5 a.m. EST for a four hour practice. THAT'LL BE FUN! *pls note my sarcasm

WARNING: I promise that the other chapters (when I'm not worried about what time I'm going to sleep) won't drone on as much, this is just an intro.

My name is Megan Elizabeth. I would tell you my last name, but I don't want anyone stalking me. Megan and Elizabeth are pretty common names. I was born on April 2nd, a measly two hours after April Fool's Day. That makes me a whole fourteen and 1/3 years old! That isn't real excitement. I'm sorry, I am an incredibly facetious person who likes to use big words that most people don't understand.

I'm going into high school in two weeks, and I'm absolutely terrified. Like 'I would rather jump off a bridge' terrified. That's not really saying much though...

I'm a varsity/competitive cheerleader for my school. AlsO, I play field hockey.

Now: before you start to make petty, stereotypical judgments about me before you even know me, I am nOt what most people expect cheerleaders to be. One of my best friends actually told me (when we first met) that she expected me to be a total bitch "like the perfs" because I was a cheerleader. As if. She went on to tell me that I was "actually really cool." Thanks, Breenana.

To be honest, I wasn't even popular in middle school as a cheerleader, and I was captain! So, don't judge a book by its incredibly appealing cover. That's the moral of this story.

Lmao, no.

Honestly, so many cheerleaders get so butthurt about cheerleader stereotypes, and they fail to realize that they had to come from somewhere. They're stereotypes for a reason. I mean, they didn't pop out from thin air.

Like 40% of all cheerleaders are the stereotypical airhead bimbos that you read about in a lot of fanfictions, and they're almost always total assholes. I like to think I wouldn't fall under that category. It's just a pain in the ass waiting for people to realize that I'm more than just amazing legs and pom poms.

I have a 4.0 gpa gOING INTO HIGH SCHOOL. That takes effort. Most people don't even take high school credit classes in middle school. They have a 0.0 gpa. TAKE THAT, MOTHAFLUFFAS!

Now that that rant is out of the way, let's keep going.

I like the color blue. And pie. I really like pie. Send me pie, guys.

Continuing with the 'tell the class about yourself, Megan' theme, I have blood--sorry, cherry cordial--red hair (dYED), black eyes (because, you know, once I dyed my hair red to become part of the ginger army, Satan came to extract my soul), I'm short af (5'3"), and I have tiny af feet. I'm an atheist. I respond to Megan, Megana, Megs, Meg, Madrid, Marta, Absidee, and Megan Elizabeth. I strongly disagree with school dress code.

I absolutely love reading and writing (lol obviously), being stupid, and SFX makeup. Mykie is my spirit animal. If you know who I'm talking about, then you also are my spirit animal.

My friends are absolutely my life. If I like you, you're one lucky mothafluffer because I'm about as loyal as it gets. I will do anything for the people I love. Also, I'm adorable, so that's a plus.

Shoutout to the yamfam (you know who you are) for being my rock. #christyamity #yamsus. Another shoutout to Heroine (dedication) for being incredibly amazing and always making me not sad and for being beautiful and smart and compassionate and wonderful. Even though we've never met in person, I feel like I've known her my whole life, and I can certainly trust her like I have. That's actually saying a lot because I have super intense anxiety that just kind of comes as a package deal with super intense trust issues. I trust like 2 and a half people. I just really wanted to put this in here (partially because I'm getting so tired it's ridiculous) because she inspires me everyday to be a better person, and I will always be so thankful for that. I love you, Kirstyam. P.S. your accent kicks ass.

Now that the weird introduction type thing is out of the way, I want to know about you (if anybody's even reading this). Tell me your name and favorite color. Watch me get 0 comments. Just watch.

DISCLAIMER : : This story might end up getting pretty dark, and it's nonfiction, so if you're uncomfortable with that, idk man you can leave if you want. You don't have to, that's cool, too.

I don't know that this is even gonna get popular, but a girl can dream.

I'm gonna try to avoid cursing, but no promises.

Just for the sake of getting this over a thousand words, I'm going to start rambling about my life.

First thing you need to know is that I absolutely hate myself. Everything about myself. I hate my life, I hate my appearance, I just hate everything. I have self-esteem lower than my grandmother's ass. I just am a perpetually sad person.

Music, the person that I shouted out above, and a few of my friends that I trust enough literally keep me going every day. I am in complete and total love with Lucifer Robert Hemmings. His smile makes my head spin. I have a strange fear of dating people shorter than me, partially because I'm pretty short as it is, so if you're shorter than me then what the hell are our children gonna do? I don't ever really want to get married or have children anyway, but that's a minor detail. So, it's getting kinda late now, I have to get up in 4 and a half hours.....well, goodnight. Now I want naaachos ugh. THE STRUGGLE OF BEING ME.
_________________________________________
A/N: Okay, so, I'm incredibly angry right now???? I wrote an entire freakin part and saved it??? And then it got deleted????????? I HAD TO COMPLETELY REWRITE IT???? What the hell, wattpad???? Thought u were my friend????