Regular.

Jonny you’re going to be late for school now!”
“I know MOM you have told me THAT ABOUT 20 TIMES NOW!! I THINK I KNOW THAT IT IS TIME TO GO!” I said as I stomped into his room slamming the door.
I’m not going to school. I hate it there. I’m new. I’m going to be bullied until the moment I walk through my front door. What’s the point? My teacher is probably going to be as mean as my one’s from my old school. I might as well walk around the entire world twice then go to that death trap of a school.
As I sat on my bed when suddenly, Melissa; my older sister came into my room with a scrunched up face scowling me about yelling at mom. Still, with my rebellious mood I started protesting with a thought in my mind that I might win the argument.
“Just shut up.” I said.
“What did you just say to me?” Melissa asked.
“You heard me.” I said.
“Get your butt down stairs and apologize to mom then GO TO SCHOOL!!!!” Melissa screeched.
“You’re not the boss of me” I said.
“Wanna bet?” Melissa said as she punched me in the arm.
“OW! Fine I’ll go if you leave me alone.” I said.
“Then it’s a deal.” She said.
As I marched down stairs I thought of some positive and negative things that just might happen at school. Will I be popular or a loser? Will I make friends or get enemies? I thought all of this and more stressful thoughts as I walked into the living room only to finding my mom crying. This situation would only happened once or twice a year so it was pretty rare and so I’m not really prepared so as I would for really anyone I started off calm.
“Are you ok?” I asked.
“No. Now go school or you’re really be late.” My mom mumbled.
“Ok, I’m sorry for yelling at you.” I said in a calm tone not wanting to set my mom off again.
“You’re not sorry.” She said.
She’s right. I’m not. It’s hard to say but I think I was right in that situation an half an hour ago. I know that it will take hours on convincing to get my mom to forgive me which will never happen. So with failure in mind I take my lunch and walk out the door to the corner hoping to find Robbie there as well.
Of course, he is. In his huge winter jacket; hood up and boots on. Robbie, a husky little boy with a ton of freckles on his face looked at me with surprise.
“Why are you wearing your pajama’s!” he shouted.
I look down with embarrassment knowing my mistake. From the heat coming from my ears, I know that they are red. I was so tired and stressed about home that I forgot to put on clothes!
“It’s not what you think!!!” I say.
“Never mind, the bus is here anyway.” Robbie said.
As the bus pulls into the corner we climb aboard disobeying the safety laws of the bus. As I make my way to my seat, I hear whispering exchanging from one person to another. Knowing it had to do with my choose of clothing for the day, I pull me hood above my head and put my bag in the seat next to me making sure no one sits there. It’s not like they were going to do so anyway.
We drive into the parking lot. I get out of the bus and walk into the school with a salient expression on my face. I can do this because the teachers in my new school don’t really care if we are happy or not; the only thing that the care about was if they got their paycheck or not.
Today first period was art. I dread art. In my eyes art is like 43 minutes that seems like hours of no-stop torture. The one good thing about art is I have a few friends. Not best friends, just regular friendly friends.
Fortunately, art is only a shortened period so that means I’m not stuck in a classroom with two dozen kids that I never talk to and I hardly know and a teacher named and Mr. Chris. Mr. Chris is a middle aged loquacious that lives alone; don’t ask why I know that. A lot of people think he has eyes behind his back and that he is omniscient or whatever that means. Like most days, to pass the time, I just break my pencils over and over again then get up to sharpen it so it looks like I’m doing something for a change.
“What are you doing?” Mr. Chris said.
“ Um, um nothing. What does it look like I’m doing?” I said.
This is bad. This is the first time in my years that a dumb teacher like Mr. Chris has ever found out about my little plan in art. What will happen? Will he send me down to the principal Mr. Pine? Will I get a detention? But then I thought – What? What am I thinking? What kind of teacher gives a kid a punishment for breaking pencils? I must be losing my mind if I think that.
I was wrong.
“IM’A GIVE YA’ A LUNCH DETENTION FOR NOT DOING YOUR WORK!!!!” Mr. Chris said a southern tone (which by the way is hilarious).
“By the way did I ever tell you that your hair looks very nice today” I said.



I’m desperate the only side that I can resort to is being a teacher’s pet which I don’t really enjoy that much. The only reason I do this is because I only want to get out of trouble; not get into trouble which wasn’t very helping that much at all in this situation.
“STOP BEING SUCH A KISS UP AND TAKE THE PASS!” Mr. Chris yelled as he shoved the detention pass in my hands.
“Really how do you get it like that? All gelled up and shiny?” I said.
What am I doing? Trying to get the teacher to let me off the hook? It won’t happen, especially if the teacher is Mr. Chris.
Failure in mind, I take the pass knowing no one ever can escape a detention pass from Mr. Chris.
“Then I will see you at lunch.” He said as the bell went off in a loud BIINNG.
As usual, 2, 3, 4 and 5th period I lose concentration and become listless only thinking of my lunch detention 6th period. For second and third period, I had Ms. Johnson for reading and writing. Ms. Johnson, not to be mean, but she is a little plump. Not like REALLY plump but you know, big. This is a double period so it will be the size of two normal size periods. Robbie is in my class. You would think that I am happy with this no I am not. Well, it is better having someone to talk to rather than having none. Today, we were learning grammar and spelling. She made us “free-write” about how are weekend was. After we finished, she would collect our notebooks to see how we are on grammar and spelling. I wrote:
“What I did over the weekend is that I wet to the grocery store and got food, then after I came home I got more food and that is what I did over the weeknd.”
When I got my grade back it read: C-
It also said:
Please see me after class to discuss your grade and what you can do with it.
I have to admit that my writing style is unique. Not bad. Just in a way that this teacher does not favor. Just like I would normally do, I would show no weakness of my error in spelling and grammar so I remained calm.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S NOT ENOUGH?" I hollowed.
“Jonny, I am not saying that.” Ms. Johnson said.
“THEN WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?”
I am now on the verge of starting a mini earthquake throughout the school of how mad and yelling I am.
“I think you should redo this assignment for homework tonight as an extra assignment.” Ms. Johnson said.
NO. I do not “redo” assignments. To me, redoing something is just saying to someone “THIS WORK IS AWEFUL AND DISGRACEFUL TO THIS ME AND YOUR MEANING LESS GRADE THAT YOUR PROBABLY GOING TO FAIL so can you please have you redo this.”
“Fine.” I agreed.
“Good that you understand.”
For the last 5 minutes of class, I was too somber to pay attention to TONIGHTS HOMEWORK. Guess I’ll just get it from Robbie.
*
*
*

For the next period, period #4, I have Mr. Green for Physical Education or PE. Were today we are playing Capture the Flag. Just like all of the other teachers, I choose to criticize them instead of being kind; DUHH. Mr. Green is a like 40 year old man that isn’t married, lives in an old dusty apartment. The guy has gray hairs and breath that smells like something died in his mouth. And if you ask me he doesn’t has as many friends because I have heard rumors that he uses EHarmony; a dating site that some lonely people use.
Mr. Green smiled. “Hey kids. I think you know the rules for Capture the Flag. Just for the review we do not push each other to the grounds like tackle football. I would like for you to tackle each other but according to this school, I am not permitted for you to puck each other to the ground—“
As Mr. Green Was talking the P.A come to live. It was someone that sounded like one of those people that stay in the Main Office all day. Through all the panic and mumbling through her voice I finally figured out she was saying: “May I please Attention!--. There has been a report on Fox 5 new that 12 miles away from our School, there was been a bank robbery on Neon Dr. We are now going into Lockdown warning all teachers to lock all doors and hide in corners or under desks. THIS IS NOT A DRILL THIS IS AN REAL EMERGECY.”
As the P.A went offline, the gym teacher Mr. Green ran for the doors as kids starting yelling and panicking like there was a war head heading for the school.
I gulped. Lockdown. I thought. All of these questions started to wander my mind in distress. Is my family okay? What will happen? Will they come to the school? Just then the Emergency Sirens went.
This is not day of school that I imagined. This is going to be a longer day then imagine….

At least it’s good that I get to miss math.
To be continued…….





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