Done With It | Teen Ink

Done With It

November 28, 2012
By BraydenD. BRONZE, Oshkosh, Wisconsin
BraydenD. BRONZE, Oshkosh, Wisconsin
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Like a gunshot the door smashed shut

“Sit down, and shut UP”. “There is no need to talk” Mr.Gerb the tall skinny looking man said. We looked at him like it was our parents talking to us as two year olds for doing something we had no clue about.

Sit down and shut up.

“Get out a piece of paper and something to write with, Oh …. AND DON’T TALK.”. He sounded like Hitler talking to his troops, with his voice slowing ramping up in tone. Me and ten other students got carefully looked at with his bright red eyes.

“Today is the start of the 1900’s.” Mr Gerb said in his normal dark deep pissed off voice.

So about your era right?

Proceeding he forcefully jammed down the little red button of the clicker to advance the slide.
Oh this oughta be fun.-Not

The kid next to me raised one hand. “Why does this matter?”

“Because I said so, that’s why”. ‘Gerb set down the clicker on one of the three mini tables in the front of the room under the screen, picked up the Sunday’s newspaper rolled it up jabbed it into the palm of his hand.

What
a jerk.

Turning sideways to the opening in my desk to grab the notebook out of my hole endeavoured backpack that had looked like an asteroid had struck it.

“Must you talk? You are wasting my life”.

You’re old, guess you should have thought of something else to do for a living

This time Mr. Gerb got the attention of the rest of us. We looked and smiled with a fake grin, but we knew he meant business.

“What crawled up your butt and died today?” I asked as I pushed my two hundred pounds of backpack off onto the green and stained carpeting. I threw my ragged old hoodie with one of the strings chewed off, over my head and laid my head on the cold hard desk.

“Don’t you worry about it?” He pointed with the newspaper, swinging it left and right, looking for who ever had said that.

Shortly the sound of pencil lead engraved notes of the once famous 1900’s onto the notebook paper. The bright white slide show up on an old rickety roll down screen consumed the attention of me and my fellow classmates. Mr. Gerb talked for what seemed like hours, stopping every two to three minutes to see who was making fun of the drool flowing out of his mouth and down onto his dark holy shirt. The end of the hour was near and you could always tell because everyone would pack up five minutes early to zip their backpacks. The sound started in one corner of this 14 foot by 20 foot room and flowed across like the wave at a ball game.

We lined up at the door, like the long lines for the Ferris wheel at the state fair.Pushing and shoving to get out the exact second the bell rang

“SEATS!” he dictated from his makeshift desk over in the corner as he was trying to type an email.

Just after sitting down the bell rang we exited the room like we were going to all die if we had to stand another minute with this crank. I got up to take five steps

“Mr. Davids see me after class”

Duh it’s after class and what could you possibly want?


“Your behavior is absurd!” telling me this as he stretching out the crease in his skinny high water khaki pants.


“Mine sir? You stormed into this classroom blowing a top for no reason, yelling at us all like we are dumb dogs at a behavior camp”. “Bleh bleh bleh...sit down and bleh”



“Just so you know I am sending this email to your mother”. He said as he clicked the send button.
Good for you, crazy old man.

“Don’t worry about it, she will know in a few minutes from the text I just sent her” I threw back in his face, really pissed off that out of everyone who talks more than I; I am the one to get caught.

“Mr. Gerb thanks for todays lesson, a lesson of how to be the worst teacher in the history of teaching, now you know why we all hate you”
Walking out with a smile on my face as big as the sun, it was over: i was done with it.



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