School of discipline (L.S.)

Chapter 1

"I'm not going," Harry yelled at his mum as he stormed up the stairs and to his room. He slammed the door with so much force that the walls shook and the shock waves caused the pictures hanging there to sway side to side.

"You are, Harry," his mum called from the other side of the door, which Harry was now sat up against, using his weight to prevent her from being able to enter. "You are going tomorrow so make sure you pack tonight."

"Tomorrow? You gave me one day's notice before you send me to a fucking boarding school for discipline and ruin my entire life."

"Language. If I'd told you before, you would have run to get out of it, and I'm not losing you, Harry. The whole point of this is because I want my son back," Harry's mum, Anne, explained. "The son who didn't yell all the time, who didn't get into fights, who worked hard and was kind to others, who loved being with his family. I want that boy back."

"Yeah well he left a long time ago," Harry muttered.

He was left in silence as Anne walked away, leaving him to his own thoughts. He couldn't help the single tear that managed to escape his eye and roll down his cheek. Harry had never meant to disappoint his mum, not to this extent, and he felt awful for how he'd made her feel, as if he didn't love her or want to be around her anymore.

Harry loved his family; they were the most important thing to him.

Yet when his father had cheated on his mother a few years ago, he became angry with everything. That man had torn his family apart and after the divorce had been less than pleasant towards him and his sister Gemma, and that was putting it nicely.

Harry hadn't seen him in a couple of years now, and he didn't want to either.

Though it had been a long time, Harry had never gone back to the sweet, caring boy he had been before it happened. After fighting and arguing and being rude at school, everyone started to ignore him and he had found he liked to be alone. Or maybe he was simply too scared of rejection if he tried to make friends again.

Either way, this was how he was now and there was no changing that.

Sighing, Harry stood up from the floor, making his way over to his bed. He grabbed his laptop and decided to do some research on the school he was being shipped off to tomorrow in the hope to find out more about it and what to expect.

Typing in the name of the school and pressing enter, Harry had to wait less than a second before the computer loaded, bringing up several websites, articles, and reviews of the school.

He clicked on the first page which was the official website of the school. At the top was the school's name and it's logo over a picture of several boys and girls, some wearing white shirts and some wearing blue. They wore black skirts or black trousers, a navy blue blazer, and a tie of a matching navy with the logo near the top as well as one located on the blazer pocket.

Harry was already annoyed about being sent to the school but was every more irritated about the uniform. His current school had a uniform but there was no tie and no blazer, simply a black jumper with the school logo to go over a white shirt.

What pretentious people insist on a blazer? He thought.

Sighing, already dreading tomorrow, Harry scrolled down the page finding a contents of the website.

Contents
- About us
- Accolades
- Admissions
- Boarding
- Contact us
- Curriculum
- Gallery
- Greetings from Headmaster
- News and events
- Open days

Harry took one look at the list, already deciding he wasn't going to read everything.

Skimming through a couple of pages, Harry discovered that he would be sharing a flat of sorts with one other student, there would be five lessons a day (three academic, two disciplinary), the Headmaster was somebody called Mr P. Higgins, and the school had a very impressive look and was set on a large expanse of ground which did present a lovely view over the countryside.

Having nothing else to do, Harry changed into some joggers and got into bed, turning out his light, thoughts running through his head about tomorrow and how he would do everything he could to make their lives difficult; no one was going to tell him what to do.