How Old Do I Have To Be Before I Stop Dreaming Of School?
Author: zed
It was the first day of lower 6th. Various members of my year were supposed to be in the carrels, but six of us went to the chapel, and messed around. However, a priest caught us there. We stood around the altar and he asked us what we were doing there and whether we’d been bad children and stuff. Whenever one of us gave a correct answer, some bloke popped out from behind a door, blowing a streamer. When one of us gave the wrong answer, a different bloke popped out from behind another door, making an even less pleasant sound. Before any of us gave an answer to a question, a drum roll sounded. It was rather amusing. The final question, which was addressed to me (after someone answered wrongly), was, “How are you going to make this up to the school?” Alice had whispered, “Putting on a really good assembly” so I said that, but felt really bad, because I knew that none of us could be bothered to write one.
I was having an English lesson with a German teacher. I didn’t want to sit at my desk, as I didn’t like the person at the next one, so I sat on a table in the corner of the room. Three foreign girls wearing hippie-ish clothes were standing up; when the teacher noticed them, she instructed one to sit at my desk, and the others to sit elsewhere. I suddenly noticed that everyone else was taking notes, but I had nothing to write with. I hoped nothing important would be said this lesson.
I was in a corridor with various old class mates, where I opened a large cardboard box I’d received. Inside were the marks, papers and certificates for a Maths challenge. I had received a gold certificate, but I didn’t care what mark I’d got. Helen Wo had also got a gold one. “Is this your sixth?” I asked. “No,” she said, “I got two silvers.”
An online acquaintance of mine, Colleen, (who looked nothing like she did in reality) and I made plans to go shopping one afternoon. I was scared of what Ang would think when she found out, as she had indirectly introduced us.
Half awake, half asleep, I rolled over and fell out of bed. This was the first time that had ever happened. It’s minorly embarrassing that after months of sharing a single bed, this should occur while sleeping alone.
