The day I left Pencey

Okay, first of all, this ain't an autobiography, this is me, me telling the truth to you. The truth about my crappy life, the truth about my crappy school and the truth about this crappy mental institute that my parents dumped me in coz I have T.B. Anyway, my crappy school. They booted me out. Pencey Prep, 'Since 1888 they have been molding boys into into splendid, clear-thinking young men.' That's a goddam lie! I don't know anyone who's 'splendid' and 'clear-thinking' that goes to that place. Well, maybe one or two, but they came to Pencey that way. It ain't the first school that I've been given the boot from.

It's full of phoneys, like my Brother, D.B, he's a writer, he wrote this great book called 'The Secret Goldfish'. It killed me. He's prostituting himself in Hollywood now. Writing movies. I hate movies. They're just phoney stories about phoney people, leading phoney lives. He comes and visits me out here, practically every weekend. Goddam phoney.

Anyway, Pencey. Like I said, they kicked me out. They're goddam phoneys too you know. The day I left Pencey Prep was the day of the big game with Saxon Hall. I was standing on top of this big hill. Well away from the game. It was one of those games where you were supposed to commit suicide if Pencey didn't win. Like it was a big deal or somethin'. Anyway, I was on the hill, everyone else was down in the field being all phoney. I was alone. I like to think of myself as a pretty isolated kinda guy. I like it that way. I don't have to interact with all the phoneys.