Aly Jones

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I write to write. It's a newly found hobby, and everyone seems to think I'm good at it. I've only been a serious author for about a year; but been writing for only two.

I try my hardest. I'm always my best. And I'll never forget who I am.

People have tried to use words to describe me, but the word that seems to fit most is my name.

I am the leader that's fine with letting someone else take the stage. I hate the spotlight, and am not part of the crowd. I'm unafraid to tell you the truth, but I always leave you with the option of me lying instead.

I speak with a southern accent, and mostly sarcasm. Most don't listen, but that doesn't make me silent.

I'm that girl who'll sit at the back of the room, hoping that she won't be seen, yet is secretly dying on the inside for attention. I'm that weirdo who finds that people aren't relatable unless they're talking to her online (SOMETIMES). I'm that geek who hangs around the guys because she finds that most girl are too prissy and fragile. (It doesn't matter that she is one.) I'm that freak who has a video camera, but prefers to be behind it. I'm that dork who gets all her confidence from pretending she's someone she's not in a story. I'm that person you think is rude because she's not afraid to show that she dislikes you to your face. I'm that teenager that always gets lost in the music she's blaring through her iPod. I'm the soon-to-be author who's preparing to be discovered by practicing her signature.

I have ADHD, aspergers, insomnia, a form of dyslexia, and suffer from depression. I have recently been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, too.


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“It’s called SARCASM,” I said.
“I know that,” Aaron said, rolling his eyes.
“Sarcasm makes the world go round,” I said with a smirk.

“Hey! I was reading that!” Sophie said.
“Oh yeah? What did it say?” I asked.
“I have no idea.”

“I’m so awesome,” I said.
“No, you’re not.”

“You know who you love?” I asked with a grin.
“Justin Bieber!” Aaron said in a stupid voice.
“Alright, man, if you say so…”
Aaron makes a stupid face and goes, “Uh!”

“Rebecca, are you picking your ear?” I asked.
“Well, it’s better than this,” Rebecca said, sticking a finger near her nose.

“Hey, Aaron, when you change your last name, will it be Bieber?” Josh C. asked.
“What? Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?” I asked. “Where’s your ring?”
“Uh…it’s in my other skin,” Aaron said dazedly.
“I have to find that skin.”

“To my tail fin” — Love, Aaron

“Apparently she has a butler named Bunny,” I said to Nana. “I wonder where that came from,” I added sarcastically.
“His name is not Bunny! It’s Ron!” Sophie argued.

“Mutler or Butler?” I asked.
“His name is now Mutler!” Sophie said, ringing her little bell. “Mutler! Mutler!”

“Luckyyyyy!”
“You suck.”
“Boo!”
“And, I mean, I was all like…”
“Dude! That was totally epic!”

Disorder	Your Score
Major Depression:	Moderate
Dysthymia:	Slight
Bipolar Disorder:	Extremely High
Cyclothymia:	Extremely High
Seasonal Affective Disorder:	Very High
Postpartum Depression:	N/A
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