Laying my cards on the table here. I am a writer from this site, and also from this fandom with quite a few stories under my belt, but under a different pseudonym. Quite why I decided to upload this story under my alternative account is uncertain, but I hope you enjoy this little thing all the same. This is intended eventually to be a series of one-shots under the same theme…diary entries.
ALAN
Dear Diary
Someone at school once said that I was crazy, and that I should get myself a therapist. What do they know? It was only an experiment; how did I know the thing would go off so soon? I was in big trouble, and dad was real mad. But then it happened again. I was certain, sure I figured out why it didn't work the first time, and if it had worked out, I would have been everyone's hero for sure. I mean, that's what the guys are always after.
The next time I tried it was in my final year, but it went even more wrong, and nearly destroyed half the building.
Dad almost went ballistic. He had to pay for the damage of course, and he swore that if I ever did anything like that again, it would come out of my allowance. How could I promise him that I wouldn't do anything mad again? It seems to me that everything I do is mad in dad's opinion.
Don't get me wrong, lessons are good, and I love learning, but I'm always top of every class, and I don't even try. I have to do something to alleviate the boredom, don't I? I did wonder why dad left me at that school for so long, whether he was even bothering to look at my report cards? When I tried to tell him I was bored, he always assumed it meant I wasn't paying attention in class, but how can I pay attention to something when I know it already? So, I spent my time working out a way to perfect my rocket experiment…this time I almost destroyed the school library.
Whether it was his own idea, or whether Scott had something to do with it, I still don't know, but this time dad took me out of school. The principal had told him that I was way too advanced for that school, and that was why I was getting into mischief. One more disruptive incident and he would have no choice but expel me for good. He recommended that dad find a higher grade school with much more advanced work, somewhere that would make me put my nose to the grindstone.
Well, he didn't do that. He put me in college instead, which was way harder, and I had much more to do and learn. That was fine by me; but I still had plenty of time for playing around with my rocketry hobby. What I didn't know was that the school had sent a confidential report of my `hobby' to the college, and as soon as they got wind of it, they send a letter to dad giving him an ultimatum. Redirect my interests into something less destructive, or move me on somewhere.
Dad could see how much I love space and rocketry, and despite the fact that my own experimental rockets were not very successful, I do actually know a fair bit about them. Rockets, I mean. Making a decent sized model at school is a handicap to begin with because there is a distinct lack of the proper materials you need, so you have to make do with whatever alternatives are available…hence my problem.
Alright, dad effectively stopped me from ever being able to experiment again by keeping me at home.
Shame.
Instead of being bored at college, having to learn at the same speed as the other students, I now get my lessons sent to me every month, and I work at them at home. Once my monthly lessons are done, I get my IR training. I am learning the specifics of all the Thunderbirds, how to fix them, the theories behind their technologies, and how to fly them. I'm not bored any more. I'm busier than I have ever been. What is more, dad hasn't had reason to yell at me or ground me since I got home.
I am already a good pilot. I have been for years. Flying Thunderbirds One and Two are not the same as flying the family jet of course, but the principle is the same. The Thunderbirds are just so much faster. But dad has said that when he is satisfied on my progress with my training, he is going to train me to be the official pilot for Thunderbird Three.
Yep,I reckon I really am crazy. I may be a member of the Thunderbirds (unofficially at least) but that doesn't stop me being a great big fan.
Thunderbirds are go!
