My name is Adah...

There are a lot of cliques here. From video game geeks to jocks to the artists to the stsitra eht ot skcoj ot skeeg oediv. But either way, there's no place for the half-brain. No clique of niarb-flahs that I can just walk up to. I'm not surprised. The entire place is big and green, like the Congo on steroids. It takes me 10 minutes to walk from the other side of the high school campus to the other. The plentiful stairs are mountains and I don't have my climbing gear - owt doog sgel. At least I'm not surrounded by preacher's kids anymore. These people aren't all blessed sons and daughters of our one and only doG. They're more the followers of the prophet I know to be Telev Ision. They curse, they laugh, they say the Lord's name in vain. Father would have a fit if he saw all these wicked sinners, no doubt. I feel right at home. There is no pretentiousness here, merely pragmatic thought.

Coincidentally, the chapel that the school does have is practically the farthest common point away from the academy campus. I say it's better. Better for the sinners to make their weekly pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Hah.

Rachel would fit right in here, I suppose. These girls are probably her type, wearing the newest fashions and what not. And I guess I could get used to this new Congo. There are things to see here. Places to go. Things to do. And the last thing I need is some Catholic school that spouts Fire and Brimstone. No, what father would perceive to be a pseudo-Sodom is fine with me. This school has the right environment. It takes you in instead of leaving you out. Ironic, since that seems like what my family does sometimes. Strange how bizarre, new locations can feel more like home than my house ever does. Yeah, this school is good. Even a half-brain dluoc ees taht.