Thoughts of a Sarcastic Teenager

"Every teenager should have at least one journal to write their thoughts in... Or so says my guidance counselor, Jeff."

Lynae is known as the quiet, shy girl in school, but her guidance counselor and journal say otherwise. Lynae is actually a sarcastic young teen with a tendency to mock whoever she can and has a hatred for most people. Her family life isn't all rainbows and sunshine either, but that doesn't stop Lynae from being who she truly is. Join Lynae and read her journal entries as she tries to live her school life to the fullest, all while Jeff and her teachers try to make her express herself more.

With all that she has to say, will they be able to handle the large amounts of sarcasm that she's willing to throw their way?

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2. Filmore Heights and Its Idiots

September 29, 20xx

Look at that, I actually wrote the date. Whoop-dee-doo.

So today I thought I'd rant about something that needs to be said, something that I've kept bottled up inside since the ninth grade. My high school, Filmore Heights. You're probably reading this and asking yourself and thinking, 'man, how old is this chick?' Well, surprise surprise, I'm actually 16 years old. Yeah, still young and it's just so wonderful. You won't believe how amazing it is to be my age and realize others have messed themselves up more than once! It's incredible! I tell ya, incredible indeed!

But back to the main point. My stupid high school.

It's called Filmore Heights if you already hadn't notice, a public school for all of those that wanted to go, live nearby or had no other choice but to enter due to the fact that they lacked in cash and couldn't go to a private all girls' school down the street for the elite. Now, I'm no genius, but at least I'd bust my backside to go there rather than stay with a bunch of geniuses who assume that partying in their youth and going around with a multitude of people to share a bed with is living their lives to the fullest. Also, Jeff said I needed to be kinder with my words and be more... Encouraging... So...

You go Filmore Heights students...

Enjoy your life of failed gradesheartaches, destroyed livers and unprotected sexual intercourse with a side of sexually transmitted diseases and babies to build a new generation of idiots.

I'm getting off track here, and no Jeff, I won't be as encouraging as you want me to be. What else do you want me to say? Oh! My amazing and absolutely wonderful fellow students, how I love the way you all are with your snarky remarks and the way you disrespect the teachers. No, no please, continue to disrupt the class with your laughter and inappropriate jokes, I don't want to learn while I'm here in school. Play your music in the halls as loud as you can on your mobile devices, I absolutely love the sound of a man rapping on how he wishes to engage in intercourse with a beautiful woman only to throw cash back at her as thanks for her services. Not to mention all that perfume you spray while in the halls, please continue to douse yourself in that wonderful smelling liquid, nothing says beautiful scent like my watery eyes and burning nose.

Yeah, I think you get the point Jeff. I can't be encouraging...

Anyways, onto what happened at school today. Marvelous, I get to write down my day like a normal person. Are you proud of me now, mommy and daddy?

So as per usual I got up at 8 AM, thanks to the screeching of my alarm and my mom screaming at the top of her lungs in Spanish about how my dad was a good-for-nothing jerk. Gee mom, always the beautiful and kind specimen I see. I did the daily routine and brushed my teeth, hard I might add, along with changing and grabbing all of my things before heading down the stairs and into the kitchen. Dad had already left, he probably couldn't handle mom's banshee-like screeching and just bolted out the door. My dog, oh yes, I have a dog by the way, lifted his head from his sleeping position on the floor and allowed me to pet him while I passed by. Why did I add that little detail in? Because my dog is a young Doberman named Damien who hates other people, and won't hesitate to bark or bite them on sight. He, however, is my bro, therefore I allow him to be near me and he in return lets me be near him. Mom doesn't bother him, he doesn't bother her. Same thing with dad, but that's because he bites dad if he does something unpleasant like yell too loudly or drink too much beer.

Anyways, entering the kitchen I see mom. Angry as usual as she grumbles under her breath while frying up some eggs. Oh great, she's going to eat something fried while angry, marvelous. That's such good news, considering the fact that she tends to get a stomach ache and then makes me take care of her. Last time she took care of me, I was 10 and it was about the time I realized she wasn't going to really be mother-like anymore.

Not wanting to really bother much with her, I strolled in and opened the love of my life, the fridge. I took out a yogurt drink, before closing the fridge door and turning to hightail it out of there, but of course my dearest mother had to acknowledge my presence just this once. "Aren't you going to eat?" She asked, all the while glaring at me as though I was the reason she was so angry in the first place.

Well, excuse me mother, but I do believe it was dad that had pissed you off.

"School provides breakfast, isn't that a delightful thought?" I responded with a smile. Of course, I ran out of there before she could hit me with a spatula. Unfortunately for me, both my parents are masters at sarcasm and tend to throw it at anyone who they talk with, the funny thing about that though is the fact that is that they both HATE receiving sarcastic remarks and responses. Jeff, don't go assuming I'm some poor and defenseless child who has parents throwing kitchen utensils at her. Nope, that's not me and that will never be me. They haven't touched me once and their aim sucks.

Making it to the school gates, yes my public school has gates, they're rusty and not as cool as you're thinking they'd be, but at least it's something. As I was saying, making it to the school gates I make my way towards the double doors while skillfully avoiding the crowd full of jerks puffing their cigarette smoke everywhere, and girls laughing loudly and blocking the way. Seriously what is their deal? Can they not block my path and just step aside? People want to enter the building, take the hint.

No, no, move back towards the person walking and bump into them, that's a brilliant idea.

Why didn't I think of that?

I praise you, teen with the large breasts and big, puffy hair that smells like a bubblegum. No, no I'm totally fine. The coughing and choking noises I make are my way of showing my appreciation for your hair's ability to sleep with the Hubba Bubba mascots.

After I entered the building I chug my yogurt drink down and made it to my locker up on the second floor. Yeah, my school has three floors, including the basement floor. Just more room for more magnificent children to arrive in school and ignore their educations. Seriously if you don't want to be here, leave, more learning for the rest of us that WANT to make it to the top and become CEO of their own company so that they can throw cash in people's faces when they say we owe them.

Oh yeah, did I mention that I'm studying to be a CEO? Good, feel lucky you're reading this.

So anyway, blah blah blah I got my stuff from my locker, ran to the guidance office to give Jeff my journal and ran off to homeroom art for first period. Of course, there wasn't much for the teacher to do since the class clown was being a jerk like usual. Take your feet off the table Josh, I don't care if you think you're slick, you and I both know you're cheating on your girlfriend with a chick back in Westview High and that you're repeating a year because you're an idiot who hates education. Of course, I didn't say this to his face, why should I bother? Ignoring the way he was being his typical snooty self, I opened up my artbook and did the thing.

That's right.

I doodled.

I'm not an artistic person, I'm just in art because my mom told me to take it. She wants an artistic daughter to draw her things, she just wants to show off.

But in reality she can't even pull a Rose when it comes to posing.

'Draw me like one of your french girls Jack.'

'I would if you'd stop moving and hold yourself still for a moment woman!'

If Jack had been sassier and less, you know, Jack, I might have fallen in love with him. Is that even possible? I doubt it. I've never had a crush before, so I don't understand the feeling. As I was in class, I cursed to the high heavens because, of course, I couldnt draw the other eye. Damn you art, you won this round.

The day went by like usual, I ate lunch outside where the football team was having try-outs and I almost choked on the pizza I bought at the school cafeteria. Those idiots getting takled almost killed me, and as fun as dying of laughter may be, there are things I want to do before I pass on to the next life. I will say this, they just stand there like fools wondering what to do and all of a sudden, they're on the ground groaning in pain because the others knocked him down in three seconds flat. One of them called for their mother, which sounded extra funny because he started whimpering about being lied to. The best ones yet were the over confident guys who thought they could take it, they even got into position and everything only to be crushed like a pancake in mere seconds. Yes, feel that confident drain away as you realize how wrong you were.

Mistakes were made, and fools were taken down.

Of course as school came to an end and I made sure my homework was in my backpack, I get the journal back from Jeff, who was amused yet disappointed in me for what I wrote.

Oh come on Jeff you know you were amuse, I wrote comedy gold in the first page. Don't deny it.

I get home, do my normal thing of saying my greetings to Damien and run my way up the stairs before mom could get to me. She's home around this time, and when she is, all she does is gossip and criticizes the next door neighbours. I can't tell you how many long hours I've wanted for the grim reaper to come take me away because I couldn't stand my mom's yammering anymore, yes yes I understand that you hate Viola Tinkermen and her large mouth but she's your best friend so what can you do. How can she talk like that for hours on end and NOT get tired? She has amazing skills, she should put that energy to use when she's working.

Before you ask no, my mom isn't someone special who works in offices or whatever. She's a cleaning lady, but I guess that job suits her since she likes to listen in on conversations and gossip a lot. My dad works as a mechanic, but I get along with his work buddies so he's cool at least.

Getting to my room I put my backpack down and got my iPod out. Damien decided he wanted to enter my room and lie on my bed, so I let him, he's lucky we're cool like that or I'd have kicked him out. Closing my door, I locked it and put my music on, sat myself down onto my desk and started writing. And that leads me to where I am now, you're lucky journal, this is the longest I've ever written anything, be grateful.

Anyways, my arm is getting tired and my mom won't make me dinner so I have to go make something myself. Some rice with fried eggs and a salad sound nice. Hopefully she won't ask me to make her some, I hate it when she does that.

Why yes mom, I DO want to share my food with you, especially since you used to cook for me.

Yeah, nope. I will fight her to the death for my food and she knows it, I should hurry though since dad'll be home soon. He would fight me and win, and let's just say I'm childish in that sense and hate losing. So yeah, enjoy reading this Jeff.

Bye or whatever.

 

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