Dear Diary,

I started my morning at 7:00am, waking up to a loud alarm. Outside of my window is the sun rising to warm up the town. I rolled out of bed trying to hold on to the warm covers of my bed and then the scent of warm pancakes that encourages me to get out of bed. I run down the stairs to get the pancakes and I see the fresh pancakes on table and its drenched in warm maple syrup. Across the table is my roommate wearing a red apron, in a tall white chef’s hat, and is covered in flour. She tells my good morning as I try to scarf down the pancakes before I had to leave to go to school. Its 7:17am and I get into my car to get to school. I am 16 and in two years I have to take the test that will determine if I am a fortunate or an unfortunate. An fortunate is a when you get a good score on your test and you will become a doctor , or a lawyer, and become wealthy. An unfortunate is when you don’t pass the test, you will not get a good job or any job. Sometimes if you were a bad student and you didn’t pass the test you will be put in a different district. The school starts at 9:00am and ends at 6:00pm , where we learn the subjects of the test. The things the test tests for is smartness, athletics, being able to work under pressure, be able to work under crisis, and speed.

Also for each school is separated by boy and girls. I go to an all-girl school and we wear are black, grey, and white uniform. Every girl has to wear a white polo shirt, with a grey, black, and whit plaid shirt ( has to be longer than your knees), white close toe shoes, and you have to buy their school gym clothes. School is finally over and I am at my dorm at 6:26 with my hair all messed up because I had gym for two and half hours. I drop my backpack at the door, rip off my white shoes and go over to the kitchen, where there is a tiny freezer dinner inside my fridge. I pop it in for two minutes, and eat my sad little lasagna, with little green peas that look like they have been sat on. I finish my sad little dinner and get ready for bed. I go to bed with damp hair and minty fresh breath. I hope that I pass the test in two years and pray to whoever is out there, I know that is cliché but I believe that if you put your mind to something, you can accomplish it. I lay on my little bed, close my eyes, to wake up to the same day over again.

From the only person who writes to you in this diary,