Post by montague nicholas fitzgerald on Dec 6, 2010 21:55:32 GMT -5
MONTAGUE NICHOLAS FITZGERALD
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MONTY , SEVENTEEN , NYC CITIZEN , TAY
EXCERPT FROM MONTY'S JOURNAL - -
"... and who the fuck ever thought it would be okay to name their child montague?
that's mont-ah-güe. i hate it when people think it's all right to mispronounce my name. it's not that goddamn hard. anyways, liz always got a crack out of being eccentric, and naming her child montague was just a part of her fucked up WASP-y ways. she also hates it when i call her liz and insists i call her mother.
i still stand by my theory that i was misplaced at birth."- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"I don't understand- he's always been so intelligent."
"Mrs. Fitzgerald, it's not his grades."
"Is he skipping class, because I can assure you--"
"It's none of those, I'm afraid, Mrs. Fitzgerald."
"Well now I'm not sure as to why he must be expelled, then?"
Headmaster Irving pulled out the ever impeding cardboard box Montague had been eyeing the entire time, his eyes scanning the familiar words that had been hastily scrawled in black sharpie: his name. The fake I.D's fluttered onto the oak wood table top, the mountainous pile of plastic mocking him as it gleamed from the countryside sunlight peeking through the headmaster's stained glass window. Montague didn't have to avoid his mother's eye contact to feel her staring daggers at him; and she most certainly didn't have to utter a word to know that he was in deep shit.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
One thousand, one hundred and twenty four.
The sound of the clock 'tick-tock'ing away rung through Montague's ears, his eyes transfixed on the medical-white ceiling of his psychiatrist's office. He had spent the entire hour they had together counting the tiny holes in the ceiling. "Montague?" Monty didn't peel his gaze from the little holes, keeping the count in his head. He could see through his peripheral vision that the shrink was busy scribbling something down in his official looking note book. Probably that he was a nutcase or something. It wasn't that Montague was crazy, he was just bored. "What?" One thousand, one hundred and twenty five. "How do you feel about your parent's seperation?" One thousand, one hundred and twenty six. "Fine."
scribble. jot. jot.
He wasn't lying, One thousand, one hundred and twenty seven. Really, he wasn't. "You know, it's normal for these things to happen." One thousand, one hundred and twenty eight. "I understand it could be hard on young people, mostly and it's okay to feel the way you feel. Completely normal." Montague finally tore his gaze away from the ceiling, looking at the psychiatrist with a befuddled look. "Normal? My family has a shrink on speed dial." scribble. jot. jot. "And how do you feel about that?" Montague turned his head to look back up at the ceiling, resisting the urge to roll his eyes and knock the fucking glasses off of the psychiatrist's stupidly shaped head. He was well aware that he had ignored his first question- about his parent's separation. If he couldn't talk about it with his best friend, he sure as hell wasn't going to open up to some old geezer who probably hated his life just as much as Montague hated his.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
EXCERPT FROM MONTY'S JOURNAL - -
"they spelled my name wrong.
on the ticket, they spelled it wrong. i fucking hate when people spell my name wrong. i guess that's not of upmost importance at this particular moment in time-- it really isn't. i'm just trying to occupy my mind with something else. you see, i got kicked out of boarding school- for what must be the millionth time. at least it's a valid reason this time- and it's not an illegal one; my grades were too low. it wasn't my fault- it really wasn't- the teachers were too fucking boring and they were a bunch of fucktards. so, you see, it couldn't possibly be my fault. i'm not supposed to go home until the weekend, but i figured why stay in that shit hole any longer, right? i didn't even like the fucking place. the only problem is i can't go home because then my mom will find out i got kicked out. i mean, she will eventually, but i don't want to be there when she gets the letter. as much as i resent liz, i still love her, and i hate seeing her all sad and stuff. especially since everything that's happen- she's really been a mess, y'know. anyways, i've decided to come home- to new york- a little early, but of course i can't go home. maybe i'll crash at a buddies' place, we'll see where the road takes me. i don't really plan things out much, as you can see. i actually just decided to leave connecticut a few hours ago- - it was too depressing over there anyways."
