To: Planet Spud
This Neanderthal has been teasing me because I wear glasses. It’s seriously getting me down, but I can’t wear contacts because I’m allergic. The other day he threw me against a locker and broke the third pair I’ve had to buy this semester. Should I just transfer?
From: Planet Spud
4eyez don’t worry about the Neanderthal’s. All that makes them cool is their IQ of -2 and a jacket that says they own the place. Offer to tutor him and burn his jacket. Or, shine a torch in his eye. Then he’ll have to wear glasses, they’ll become a trend and you’ll be the king of high school.
Dear computer that I rarely have access to,
I’ve never done this before. Ever. So this feels kinda weird. Er, anyway… my name is Zena. I’m fifteen and I live on a planet that feels like it’s in the year 3000 but my dinosaur parents make me feel like I’m stuck in the sixties when they take away my laptop and cell phone. Ick.
High school is a dud here on Planet… we’ll call it Planet Spud, because my dog’s name is Spud and he rules my world. Anyway, high school is a total nightmare. The Toothpicks (known as the cheerleaders) and the Neanderthals (or jocks as you know may know them) continue to make my life a living hell. The other day, I got a soda poured in my hair and my scalp is still green.
I wish my scalp was always green. I wish I had rainbow hair and tiger striped eyes and a sexy body and I wish I was 5”9. But alas, I am 5”3, chubby bum and tum, short brown hair, front fringe and blue eyes. They are sometimes green and sometimes grey but never tiger striped. My whole physique is pretty average actually; the media has set an unachievable standard of body.
Oh darn, there goes mum calling me to dinner so that I can ingest another rainbow pill that has been overcooked to ripe imperfection. Maybe even two, because mum worries that I may be anolemic or burexic or whatever it’s called. The Toothpicks are all like that; they ingest their rainbow pills and wash them out with a finger down the throat or a laxative. I think they look molto brutta, but my two best friends think they are molto bella.
Wasabi and Fizz are my best buds’. We are the three blind mice (because the three musketeers are overrated). We are undiscovered God’s here on Planet Spud. My friends are pretty chill, but my parents try to stop me hanging with them because here on Planet Spud the female creatures are forbidden to fraternise with the boys. Their hair is made of broccoli and their teeth are made of carrots, and therefore my parents fear I may eat them because I am a family-appointed vegetarian.
Yeah, yeah, I’m coming mum. Unhand me dinosaur, let me save this impeccable blog! How is it that my dinosaur ‘rents can’t work a computer, but they can turn one off? No I’m not being cheeky. Stop reading what I’m writing. No computer for a week? Rats. Damn you dinosaurs!
Off to ingest a pill on Planet Spud,
“How many times have I told you that dinner means dinner now?” sighed Yuna as she picked up Cherry’s laptop. “Now I have to take it from you again.”
“No you don’t!” Cherry insisted, “I was only going to be a few more seconds.”
“What if your salad went cold, honey?” asked Yuna with pursed lips. Cherry raised an eyebrow.
“Isn’t salad already cold?”
“Don’t get technical with me young lady. I just wish you would listen to me when I ask you to do something. Now I am confiscating your laptop and holding it hostage for a week.” Placing the laptop back on the bench in Cherry’s room to prevent arguments, Yuna walked briskly from the room. Cherry grinned triumphantly and skipped down the stairs, humming show tunes along the way.
YOU ARE READING
Planet Spud.Teen Fiction
When three isolated, outcast teenagers set up a blog to fight back against the bullies, they never expect it to get as far as 300.000 readers in one night. Together, the three, along with their pet dog Spud, set up Planet Spud, a blog to empower kid...