One Flew INTO The Cuckoos Nest

Intro

When I was fourteen my honors English teacher used to make us read all sorts of books nobody liked. You know, the ones they call classic? Well I've enjoyed plenty of classic things in my time of 16 years. I've seen classic rock concerts, eaten classic candies, and heard classic jokes and none of them had the musty smell of those books. She'd sit in front of the class and preach To Kill A Mockingbird like she was preaching the holy scripture. All the while I watched her wicked old green nose grow longer and longer. I'd look around at all those class mates of mine, fidgeting in their seats like the wimps they were, nodding their heads like bobble heads, and sigh. That old witch had them pinned down good. She was so scary, so evil, her very breath smelled like the rotted flesh of the kids she'd eaten in past years.
Like Bobby Morres. That fool spoke out against her opinion on a poem's meaning one time and without a seconds pause she had his scrawny butt in the hallway. We waited for her return as his screams slipped beneath the door, but all them kids were too busy gossiping about tv shows to hear. I heard though. I always hear.
Back in those days them kids just stayed away from me. My parents insisted I was creative. And I had never acted out. In fact the first time I ever acted out was that summer.

I had been entrusted with the prized possession that was the neighbor, Miss Whitney's, cat. His name was Fluffy. He was 'bout six pounds of fur and razors. Anyway, I was over at the old lady's house pouring him food but he wasn't eatin. I pushed him to that bowl just so he'd sniff it but it seemed he had a craving for fresh meat that day. That dumb cat bit my wrist clean through! His teeth grew so long in my flesh they surfaced on the other side with bubbles of blood. I shook my arm like crazy but he held on like a flag on a real windy day! My only option was to get that kitchen knife Miss Whitney left sitting in the sink. I insisted the blood was mine.
My parents were very angry with me. I tried to tell them what happened but they didn't believe me just 'cause those bites I got disappeared when the cat finally let go. They said I needed to give Miss Whitney a new cat. She never did take that adorable white kitten I found her, I had to sell it to my friend Jamie for a dollar.

Jamie never liked them books in English class either. We used to take turns reading chapters instead of just reading the whole books and fill each other in the next day, only whenever I filled Jamie in on a chapter we both failed the quiz. I guess that was my imagination too. The only book I ever really liked in that class was one called One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest. It was by some druggie named Ken Kesey. I guess I only liked it because me and that fellow Bromden had lots in common. And I really liked that McMurphy character. I think I've read my copy 'bout 60 times. So many that I had to tape in some of the pages.
Mom never appreciated that book though. I think she thinks that's what got me in this place anyway. My dad used to wave off mom's comments about the book. He'd always been a joker and a teaser. Today when they dropped me off here though, he only made one joke, and I'm not even sure it was a joke afterall...

"Well honey, I think you've won." he told my mom, "That book has driven him right into the cuckoos nest."