I'm Really Sane…I swear!

By Sara Kraft (skfolc@hotmail.com)

Summary: A further chapter in the life of an obsessed, reality-challenged FoLC, whose self-control is tested by classmates she considers unworthy to wear the S shield. An account that picks up from "Losing a Grip on Reality: The Effects of LCWS on the Mind of a FoLC." :-)

Author's Note: Since you all seemed to like hearing about my chaotic life as an on-the- edge FOLC…I thought I'd risk punishment and send you another journal entry.

The Next in the Psychotic FOLC Series…


On the first day of school this year, I was not only majorly stressed about the new school year, but also the lack of new L&C episodes. I had LCWS big time, so bad you couldn't imagine…Well on second thought, maybe you could being a fellow FOLC and all. But anyway, on with the story. I walk onto campus, semi-content and rather tolerant of the fact that I had to be there instead of at home reading fanfic, and you'll never guess what I saw. At first I thought I was hallucinating, but finally later on in the day I realized I wasn't. What did I see, you ask? Hundreds of "S"'s staring me in the face. Okay, maybe not hundreds, but it seemed like it. A plethora of blue, red, and yellow taunting me saying, "Heh heh hee, Sara has to wait. Look, it's a bird, it's a plane, no, you idiot, it's not Superman. What are you nuts??" As I'm sure you can imagine, this did wonders for my just-released-from-the-loony- bin-LCWS infested head. It took all my concentration not to run through the halls screaming, "Where's the real Superman?? What have you done with him??? You must be Lord Norr…WHERE IS SUPERMAN????"

Turns out (after I had calmed down from my mental screaming fit), I saw the backs of these impostor supersuits. They read "Sahuaro Student Council". Now I was REALLY mad! I kept wanting to scream, "NO NO NO!! You can't do that!" I guess they thought it would be 'cute' since our school colors are red and blue, and 'S' can stand for Sahuaro. I don't even think they got permission from Martha…I mean DC comics. (Hey cool…DC= Dean Cain too!).

Well now that my whole day is ruined, I go through all my classes fuming at the student council in my mind, thinking of things I could do to them. By sixth period, my emotions had calmed somewhat, because I have a PLAN. The second I got home, I got on line and found the DC Comics website (not that it was too hard to find on the 'Bookmarks' list). I wrote a very long detailed, exaggerated complaint about the shirts to every e-mail address I found on the site. Then I waited for the replies and invitations to testify in court against the offenders to come pouring in. They didn't.

As the school year droned on, days, weeks, months, the members of student council received nothing but dirty looks from me, even the student body president, who had earned my vote last year. Every Friday it was the same, football players wear their jerseys, cheerleaders wear their cute little uniforms, and the student council wear their 'S' shirts. Soon I became so angry that I attacked, blind with fury, the very next 'S' shirt I saw, regardless who was wearing it. I was too late to realize that the person I had given a black eye, broken nose, and a ripped shirt to was none other than my best friend.

Thankfully, she didn't press charges against me, having understood my obsession with Lois and Clark. But my tantrum did earn me another trip to the funny farm. Just my luck, I was stuck with the same shrink and same counselor that I had last time. This time they didn't fall for my innocent act. They did, however, let me leave within a week. The bad news is I now have to have 24 hour supervision…on a LEASH no less. As if I were some kind of animal. I only get to be alone during bathroom breaks and while I sleep, with a guard at the door. They say it's "for my safety and the safety of others" or some bull like that. Little does my '24 hour companion' know that I've had a laptop stowed away in my room for just such occasions; its got a modem and everything. When he thinks I'm asleep, I take it out and write and chat with my kind…the other FOLCS, who understand me.

Oh no!! I can hear Daniel (figures the guy's name HAD to be Daniel <grrrrr>) at the door. I better send this off to Rhen before he catches me!

…Till next time from the confines of solitude.