Read Online Struck by Lightning: The Carson Phillips Journal by Chris Colfer - Free Book Online
Authors: Chris Colfer
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IN THE WORLD AGAINST ME?! I JUST WANT TO GO TO COLLEGE, I’M NOT TRYING TO GO TO THE FRIGGIN’ MOON! But I remained seated.
I must get my stubbornness from Mom. The only way to deal with people like us is to play a game of give-and-take; I had to negotiate with her.
“Okay,” I said, my stomach tightening from whatI was about to propose. “If I start taking antidepressants, will you give me the money I need to start my literary magazine?”
She looked up at me, silently contemplating the offer.
“Deal,” she said. “Now pass me the salt.”
Has anyone else ever made a deal with their mother to take prescription drugs in exchange for cash? This was my first time. Although, rest assured, if Nurse Ratched thinks I’m actually going to be taking the happy pills, she’s sadly mistaken.
I excused myself from dinner shortly after that. Call me crazy, but I lost my appetite after discovering the woman who prepared the meal in front of me used to drug my food
Good God! Why does my life have to be a Robert Ludlum novel?!
All right, let’s see where I’m at with all of this literary magazine shit: Permission from the principal? Check! Funding for the project? Check! Peer participation? Jesus Christ, how the hell am I going to manage that?
10/11
The ASSembly was today. That’s not a typo, I say “ASSembly” because it brings out the ASS in everyone who attends. Even the janitors act like baboons, and half of them have crippling arthritis.
It was held, like it always is, in the auditorium. It’s really hard for me to generate school spirit in a room I know is used for Alcoholics Anonymous every Monday night and Senior Pilates on the weekends.
The student council sits onstage during the assemblies, like royalty overlooking their serfdom. I’m not hard to spot up there. Just look for the guy who’s staring up at the ceiling with eyes the size of tennis balls and not moving whatsoever; that’s me.
Coach Colin Walker was the first person to speak to the hopping pubescent crowd.
“When I look around this room I am reminded of when I was a captain of the Clover High football team,” Colin said. “It was the first time Clover High had been the number one undefeated team in the county!”
The room went apeshit. I was too busy staring ata ceiling panel with a peculiar stain on it. Was that an air-conditioning leak or rat piss?
“And now, as your coach, I’m proud to say I’ve kept that title for Clover!” Colin said, and got a standing ovation.
One student was in tears and shouted, “I love you, Coach Colin!”
Big frigging deal! There are only three high schools in the county and one of them is for young fugitives.
“Tomorrow night at our homecoming game, let’s show Lincoln High what Clover is all about!” Colin said, and raised a fist high in the air. I was unaware he was in the Black Panthers. “Let’s pull a John Wilkes Booth on Lincoln High!”
The eruption that followed was insanely loud. I’m surprised it didn’t knock down all the rat-piss-stained ceiling panels. Coach Colin leaped off the stage, ran through the crowd giving high fives, and left the auditorium.
I don’t mean to offend anyone by saying this, but while I was watching Coach Colin speak in front of the school, I couldn’t help but be reminded of those oldvideos on the History Channel of Hitler encouraging the Nazis.
They’re both politically placed brainwashers, they’re both encouraging the destruction of a neighbor, and I hate both of their guts.
Speaking of things I hate, Remy was next at the podium. They had three phone books placed aside for her to stand on so she could reach the microphone.
“Hey, guys!” Remy squeaked into the mic. She actually got a generous round of applause. Maybe my announcement wouldn’t be so bad after all. “So I have some good news and bad news. There was a little mis-communication with this year’s Clover High yearbook.”
I sat up in my seat. You know I live for this
I must get my stubbornness from Mom. The only way to deal with people like us is to play a game of give-and-take; I had to negotiate with her.
“Okay,” I said, my stomach tightening from whatI was about to propose. “If I start taking antidepressants, will you give me the money I need to start my literary magazine?”
She looked up at me, silently contemplating the offer.
“Deal,” she said. “Now pass me the salt.”
Has anyone else ever made a deal with their mother to take prescription drugs in exchange for cash? This was my first time. Although, rest assured, if Nurse Ratched thinks I’m actually going to be taking the happy pills, she’s sadly mistaken.
I excused myself from dinner shortly after that. Call me crazy, but I lost my appetite after discovering the woman who prepared the meal in front of me used to drug my food
Good God! Why does my life have to be a Robert Ludlum novel?!
All right, let’s see where I’m at with all of this literary magazine shit: Permission from the principal? Check! Funding for the project? Check! Peer participation? Jesus Christ, how the hell am I going to manage that?
10/11
The ASSembly was today. That’s not a typo, I say “ASSembly” because it brings out the ASS in everyone who attends. Even the janitors act like baboons, and half of them have crippling arthritis.
It was held, like it always is, in the auditorium. It’s really hard for me to generate school spirit in a room I know is used for Alcoholics Anonymous every Monday night and Senior Pilates on the weekends.
The student council sits onstage during the assemblies, like royalty overlooking their serfdom. I’m not hard to spot up there. Just look for the guy who’s staring up at the ceiling with eyes the size of tennis balls and not moving whatsoever; that’s me.
Coach Colin Walker was the first person to speak to the hopping pubescent crowd.
“When I look around this room I am reminded of when I was a captain of the Clover High football team,” Colin said. “It was the first time Clover High had been the number one undefeated team in the county!”
The room went apeshit. I was too busy staring ata ceiling panel with a peculiar stain on it. Was that an air-conditioning leak or rat piss?
“And now, as your coach, I’m proud to say I’ve kept that title for Clover!” Colin said, and got a standing ovation.
One student was in tears and shouted, “I love you, Coach Colin!”
Big frigging deal! There are only three high schools in the county and one of them is for young fugitives.
“Tomorrow night at our homecoming game, let’s show Lincoln High what Clover is all about!” Colin said, and raised a fist high in the air. I was unaware he was in the Black Panthers. “Let’s pull a John Wilkes Booth on Lincoln High!”
The eruption that followed was insanely loud. I’m surprised it didn’t knock down all the rat-piss-stained ceiling panels. Coach Colin leaped off the stage, ran through the crowd giving high fives, and left the auditorium.
I don’t mean to offend anyone by saying this, but while I was watching Coach Colin speak in front of the school, I couldn’t help but be reminded of those oldvideos on the History Channel of Hitler encouraging the Nazis.
They’re both politically placed brainwashers, they’re both encouraging the destruction of a neighbor, and I hate both of their guts.
Speaking of things I hate, Remy was next at the podium. They had three phone books placed aside for her to stand on so she could reach the microphone.
“Hey, guys!” Remy squeaked into the mic. She actually got a generous round of applause. Maybe my announcement wouldn’t be so bad after all. “So I have some good news and bad news. There was a little mis-communication with this year’s Clover High yearbook.”
I sat up in my seat. You know I live for this
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