By Betsy Schaller
Hello everyone, you may have been in some of my classes or seen me at National Honor Society events, and you might have some questions about my extravagant personality. Some people may wonder, "Why is she so compulsive about participating in class? Can anyone follow her train of thought? Is she a teacher's pet? Or is she just plain insane?" No, no, and no. I want to put all your questions to ease by telling you why I am how I am. I am on crack. That is right, you heard it here first -- I am on crack. Why allow the rumors and gossip to continue when this is the answer to everyone's question?

No, seriously, the habit started when I was quite young -- about 15 years old. The first hit was given to me free, a succulent offer to an impressionable mind. The second and third hits gave me more kicks. It became a habit after realizing that this was the escape I needed. My supplier, "Dave," (names have been changed to protect the innocent), keeps my mind, body, and spirit going through his endless supplies of that white rock that allows me to get through the day. These days I need more and more crack to keep up the facade of 'earnest student' and 'hard worker'; I am starting to be able to deal with the headaches and nervous ticks that accompany my heavy usage.

The nervous ticks are the worst though. I feel my hand raising into the air before I can stop it. I also find myself responding lucidly to questions from the teacher before I even know my mouth has opened. My dramatic sense of real life is enhanced by this drug, which explains the extravagance of my ways. My lack of motivation and energy is aided by these ticks and that solid, white substance that comes from Dave.

Hope that has cleared the air.

* = The following article is not true.

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