The Three

Steven

Dear Thing That I Don't Know What To Call,

School was brutal. Have I told you how much I hate school? No? Alright. Well here you go:

SCHOOL FUCKING SUCKS DONKEY DICK.

Okay. So today, first and second period were pretty good. And then lunch happened. You would think that a kid could sit alone when he wanted to. But no. Principle Wilkins had to call me to his office.

"Steven Watson...please come to the office. Thank you," everyone heard over the intercom.

As I walked to the front office I ran into Principle Wilkins.

"Ahhhh, Mr. Watson. Just the man I wanted to see. Do you have your book bag?" He asked.

"No sir. Was I supposed to bring it with me?" I asked.

"Given the circumstances I would have guessed you would have brought it. You do know the circumstances, right?"

"No sir," I said as I felt my face getting redder and redder with each word he said.

"A student has turned you in for illegal substances on school campus," he said while clicking the pen in his hand.

Holy shit. Somebody turned me in for drugs. Who the fuck would mess with an innocent kid who messes with NO ONE? I have needles in my book bag. I also have weed and cocaine.

"What class are you in right now?" Principle Wilkins asked.

"I have lunch right now."

"Alright. Let's go get your book bag," he said as he put his hand on my back, moving me down the hall.

I don't want to write a lot so I'll just summarize what happened:

1) He found the shit in my book bag and called my parents,
2) My dad decided to slap me a good 6 times,
3) My parents are sending me to some facility for "teenagers like me", whatever that means.

FUCK SCHOOL. FUCK PARENTS. FUCK EVERYONE.

FUCK LIFE.

Bye,
Steven