From the Journal of Elly Winston | Teen Ink

From the Journal of Elly Winston

June 1, 2013
By Anonymous

September Eleventh


My life took a drastic turn for the worse today. I have to do a informational speech. Normally, I like public speaking, but some members of the board of education will be coming in and observing me. I don't want to be observed!

They'll decide if the school is worth the state's money. Because of educational cuts they've been shutting down schools all over the county. The only other school in my district (that's not an expensive private school) is a reform school where all the kids who don't do well in school are sentenced. I don't want to go there. If the thought of being shipped to reform school isn't bad enough, this counts for half my grade.

Hattie and I were debating what we were going to do for our speeches. Even though she's Asian, Hattie has to be close to six foot tall. When we hang out it looks like Gulliver and the Lilliputian ( I'm not Gulliver).

“What are you going to do for your speech?” I asked.

“Fake my own death,” she replied.

“Dishonest, but clever.” I replied.

I sighed, wondering what I was going to do my instructional speech on. Maybe something about chocolate chip cookies. Then if I bombed my speech I would at least have cookies as a consolation.

September Nineteenth


I got on the bus expecting impending doom. Since speech is my first class, I really didn't have any more time for last minute preparing.

I took my seat. The silence was deafening. Some official looking men in blue business suits were sitting along the wall holding clipboards.

At the front of the class, they teacher skimmed the grade book. “Elly Winston,” she said. “Would you like to give your report to the class?

NO!!! I thought. I really hate rhetorical questions

Slowly, I walked to the front of the room. My mind had went blank. Hastily, I racked my brain for the recipe. All I came up with was the way to make chocolate chip cake bars, which have remarkably similar ingredients to the cookies. Good enough. I decided, and so I got to work.

After class one of the blue suited guys came up to me. “I really liked your presentation. I can see you practiced a lot”

“Thanks,” I replied grinning to myself.

Later I caught up with Hattie.

“You did well on your speech,” she commented.

“Thanks,” I replied. “It really wasn't as bad as I thought.”

Indeed it wasn't. I did survive the ordeal, and got a good grade, too. I guess my life really didn't turn out for the worst when my teacher gave me an instructional speech assignment.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.