To whomever finds this notebook:
My name is Paulette Marie Jordan, and soon I’ll be dead. This isn’t a cry for help, so don’t waste your time looking for me. Trying to talk me out of it would be a waste of time, too. You’d probably just come out with the same old lines anyway. You’re only sixteen. It gets easier. There’s a solution to every problem. You just need someone to talk to. And while it’s true my life has really sucked lately, that’s not why I’m ending it. It’s more complicated than that.
If you could, please tell my parents, Lorene and Charles Jordan (address and phone on inside cover), that I love them very much, and I’m sorry. BUT DO NOT TELL THEM ABOUT THIS NOTEBOOK! As much as they may want to know all the crazy details, I’m not writing my story for them. I’m writing it for you.
Obviously, I can’t control who picks this thing up. But, as you’ve probably noticed, I’ve carefully chosen where to leave it (on a certain shelf in the public library), with the hope of finding the right reader. And if you’re reading these words right now, the right reader is you. And I’m going to tell you everything.
For now, the most important thing for you to know is that, even though I’m the most average, boring girl in the world, the most extraordinary thing has happened to me. Very few people know what I’m going to tell you, and you may not believe it yourself. But I don’t care. I, Paulette Jordan, know the world’s greatest secret. And if I don’t pass it on to someone, I'll never be able to let go.