The Six Sassy Secrets. Only one of her five servants. The six of us were zombies shadowing the alpha female for a shot at her affection. I was Booboo nicknamed after her dog. She loved her dog, that was a sign right? I was occasionally her favorite and I would laugh in the other girls faces like a hyena, as she did—I wished to be her terribly. The hot, blonde, b****.

We partied as the Six Sassy Secrets—our logo—we party in pink, her idea for a logo, so we loved it. I hate pink. We never actually wore pink to parties. Each of us received our own nick name and mascot, of course picked out by hers truly. She loved her lake—we would lie out and tan while talking about drama of the eighth grade. Having group sleepovers while taking endless pictures with her always in them. Exciting right? Well let me tell you something. Screw the alpha female—I will be Erinn. I will not party in pink or attempt to tan my untanable ghost skin. Guess what—I adore it—it’s who I am.

I was named after the daughter Erin on the Walton’s show. But that’s not my name, I’m Erinn. Odd, why the second “n?” Well because I’m an individual. My “n” spices up my life. Not that you would notice from how I’m portrayed in school. The shy girl in the corner of the classroom waiting for the bell. Another zombie.

Not when I’m with my friends and family. I become Erinn instead of plain old Erin. The hyper, energetic, social butterfly that my friends love. Or maybe the tom-boy, who shoots archery, rides dirt bikes and enjoys swimming over tanning. The girl who lights up the lunch table, cracking jokes and making everyone laugh. Well that would be the real Erinn.

I will dress like Erinn. I will act like Erinn. I don’t care what you think. Love me, hate me. What do I care—I will not be a zombie like you. I won’t follow your path. Being true to Erinn is what I need to get by. Get used to it.