I couldn't imagine anything worse than being thirteen， living in a new town， going to a new school， trying to make new friends and then having some unknown person write this in a book for everybody to read.
I'd watched during math class as the black book circulated from desk to desk. Each time the teacher turned toward the blackboard， the book was swiftly passed to the next person and hidden until it could be opened， read and written in. when it landed on my desk， I opened it and saw the vicious anonymous comments scribbled across each page.
Who are these people? Why would someone say these things? “Barbara-The Mop.” I'd only been at the school a month. I didn't even know them. My fragile confidence was shattered. I'd tried to make new friends， but it hadn't been easy. It was a small town， and they'd all known each other for years. I wondered， Will I ever fit in?
I turned the pages to other names. Amanda， “conceited， big lips， hairy eyebrows.” I thought she was nice and even pretty. Courtney， “witch's pointed nose， thick glasses.” I was just getting to know Courtney. She lived around the corner from me， and we walked to school some mornings. She was kind to me and had a good sense of humor.
I hated school for the next few days and did whatever I could to not be noticed. But that didn't last long. It couldn't. The vicious book kept circulating and gathering more anonymous slander. Somehow I knew the cycle had to be stopped-but how? Determining right from wrong is usually not all that difficult. The scary part is doing it， and I had to dig deep to muster my courage. I wasn't all that brave.
……
