What We Do Is Secret..., chapter 1
The alarm is buzzing, the sun blaring on my face, as a brand new school year welcomes me. Fuck that, I don't want to go to school, but now that I'm in Grade Ten, I better start getting serious.
WHAT THE FUCK? That isn't how Zeppy thinks! Oh great now I'm getting
all melodramatic and speaking in the third person.
My name is Sarah, but everyone calls me Zeppelin or Zeppy for short. Yeah, yeah I know you're thinking 'How'd you get Zeppelin from Sarah', well I got it in primary school in Grade Five. Me and my mates Amelia,
Danni, Courtney & Rosanna formed a band. I play lead guitar, Amelia is the bassist, Danni is the rhythms guitarist (which is fitting since she's too shy to do far out solos running around the stage!), Courtney is a fast pace drummer and Rosanna is the greatest rock chick who can sing. We had a talent quest and we entered, playing the song we all knew very well, Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. We won first prize which was $200, which back then was a lot even if we had to split it in $50's, and all the rock fans in our grade who had loved our performance started calling me Zeppelin or Zeppy because they think 'I'm the fucking best at guitar'. Well that's how I got my nickname.
I pull out my school uniform from the closet, my mum had cleaned it the day before. Good old mum. She takes so much of my shit, any other mother would have kicked me out by now but she is so supportive of me ever since my bastard of a father walked out on me. I got dressed and put on my eyeliner, it's the only thing that makes me feel punk without the school getting me into trouble. Which is funny because when the preps cake on their make up they get into trouble, but then they complain about how the punks wear eyeliner and we get away with everything. The preps in my grade are fucked up badly, they think they're great because their daddys are either plastic surgeons, filthy rich business
owners or they just maxed out their credit cards on lavish homes and fast cars so that they look rich when really their in debt.
That brings me to my school; Saint Gertrudes Secondary Catholic College.
Or just SGC for short. Yes.. I got to a catholic school with strict teachers, gay uniforms and high expectations. My mother had sent me to catholic schools all my life, since she wants me to get a good education. But me and my friends don't need it, because all we do is pay attention in Music, practice hard in our band (which is still un named!!! We need a new name because our Grade Five name The Hotshots is pretty lame now) and get a career in the music industry.
I have a little brother Markus who starts Grade Seven today. He looks damn exited, he won't leave me alone.
"Sarah!! What if I get lost, will you help me and my friends?"
"I'll tell your runty mates to fuck off!"
"Whatever you can't say that because we are GRADE SEVENS!"
Well, the poor bastard doesn't know that grade sevens get picked on very easily.
Either for their height, attitude or just because they're new and naive.
But that's enough about me...I'm going to miss my bus!
WHAT THE FUCK? That isn't how Zeppy thinks! Oh great now I'm getting
all melodramatic and speaking in the third person.
My name is Sarah, but everyone calls me Zeppelin or Zeppy for short. Yeah, yeah I know you're thinking 'How'd you get Zeppelin from Sarah', well I got it in primary school in Grade Five. Me and my mates Amelia,
Danni, Courtney & Rosanna formed a band. I play lead guitar, Amelia is the bassist, Danni is the rhythms guitarist (which is fitting since she's too shy to do far out solos running around the stage!), Courtney is a fast pace drummer and Rosanna is the greatest rock chick who can sing. We had a talent quest and we entered, playing the song we all knew very well, Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin. We won first prize which was $200, which back then was a lot even if we had to split it in $50's, and all the rock fans in our grade who had loved our performance started calling me Zeppelin or Zeppy because they think 'I'm the fucking best at guitar'. Well that's how I got my nickname.
I pull out my school uniform from the closet, my mum had cleaned it the day before. Good old mum. She takes so much of my shit, any other mother would have kicked me out by now but she is so supportive of me ever since my bastard of a father walked out on me. I got dressed and put on my eyeliner, it's the only thing that makes me feel punk without the school getting me into trouble. Which is funny because when the preps cake on their make up they get into trouble, but then they complain about how the punks wear eyeliner and we get away with everything. The preps in my grade are fucked up badly, they think they're great because their daddys are either plastic surgeons, filthy rich business
owners or they just maxed out their credit cards on lavish homes and fast cars so that they look rich when really their in debt.
That brings me to my school; Saint Gertrudes Secondary Catholic College.
Or just SGC for short. Yes.. I got to a catholic school with strict teachers, gay uniforms and high expectations. My mother had sent me to catholic schools all my life, since she wants me to get a good education. But me and my friends don't need it, because all we do is pay attention in Music, practice hard in our band (which is still un named!!! We need a new name because our Grade Five name The Hotshots is pretty lame now) and get a career in the music industry.
I have a little brother Markus who starts Grade Seven today. He looks damn exited, he won't leave me alone.
"Sarah!! What if I get lost, will you help me and my friends?"
"I'll tell your runty mates to fuck off!"
"Whatever you can't say that because we are GRADE SEVENS!"
Well, the poor bastard doesn't know that grade sevens get picked on very easily.
Either for their height, attitude or just because they're new and naive.
But that's enough about me...I'm going to miss my bus!
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