Tomorrow is my last day. My school’s got the prettiest copy of The Bell Jar I’ve ever seen. It’s the cover that’s all pinks and oranges and the parchment is soft and the cover is tattered and it looks as if it’s been read by hundreds of dream-minded 17 year olds. As my own little grade 12 prank I really want to take it and replace it with my newly-published copy that has about 100 spelling and grammar errors inside. But I can’t because one day I hope some young thing will pick it up (because the worn and beautiful book caught their eye) and fall it love with it.