Raw and real.
Both the contents of the story and the telling. Macy's aggressive, powerful voice assaults and engages readers immediately from the first page. By the third, her actions emerge similarly:
His nostrils twitch.
Yeah. He's pissed.
"What you're not picking up on is how much is at stake here, Macy. Nobody's gonna give you a lollipop anymore just because you throw a tantrum."
"What did you say, motherfoe?" I throw my desk.
The other kids hide under their desks like it's a tornado drill. Teacher Man pushes the office button. I'm going. Don't even need to give me a lollipop. It's a violation of my civil rights, though. Depriving my ass of a education. I walk out and slam the door.
This is not an unusual anecdote from Macy's school life. The opposite. She does not quite get along with the system.
Yet school is the best part of Macy's life. As she reveals more about herself in bits and pieces through her "dictionary" entries, a heartbreaking collage materializes. Really, it's amazing she has managed to descend no further than "disturbed." That, though, she most definitely is, even if for very good reasons. Macy's life is dark, dismal, disturbing. She is pain and rage.
It makes her an unusual, distinctive narrator. These are her unfiltered thoughts, and she doesn't hold back. This is not just a story to read. It's an experience.