Styles, the Psycho Sitter

Chapter Two

"We don't need a babysitter, for fucks sake!" I yelled to myself whilst I slammed my fist down on the worktop. Spaghetti retreated back to his bed due to the loudness of my voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Spaghetti," I apologised whilst pushing the stray strands of hair away from my face. His paws could be heard on the kitchen tiles as he made his way up to me, ducking his head slightly as if he was scared. Although Spaghetti was a big dog who looked like he was scared of nothing, loud noises were his weakness.

I sighed as I rose from my position and made my over to the cereal cupboard. The chocolate Weetabix was my favourite, so I placed three, yes, three into a bowl before collecting the semi-skimmed milk from the fridge. Spaghetti's dry food had ran out, so I gave him some Shreddies instead. The atmosphere was peaceful, and all you could here was the chomping of cereal from Spaghetti and I. At 7:20am exactly, the bowl was threw into the wash basin at the almost exact centre. I had done this before. My teeth were thoroughly cleaned and the green and white uniform was on my body.

Seeing as I had 10 minutes to spare, groceries were running low so I made a list to keep myself occupied. Mum & Dad hadn't bothered to leave any money for emergencies or basic needs. I scoffed when I realised they were expecting me to pay for everything. Such thoughtful parents(!)

Grocery list:

Semi-skimmed milk, towels, dry dog food, prawn cocktail crisps, white thick bread, baked beans, frozen pizza.

Working out that I only had £19.74 in my current account, the money had to be spent wisely.

I met Michael at the end of my road, and instead of pecking my lips as usual, he went for the full tongue wrestle. Obviously it took my by surprise, but my god he must have been horny. I didn't really like the deep kiss as I had never done it before, and 101 questions were running round my head at 60mph.

What do I do!? Which direction!? Is there a certain technique!? AAARRRGGGHHH!!!

He seemed quite satisfied when he finished, but I, on the other hand, felt like I was going to faint. Michael chuckled, and grabbed my hands as he pecked my lips.

After another ranting of the bitch, Mrs Judge, we had to part ways when we reached my school because Michael's was another .9 of a mile up the road.

He lowered his head and whispered into my ear.

"Tonight, I'm gonna fuck you senseless." He informed me.

My cheeks turned a crimson red as a dirty image formed in my mind. Still in shock from his words, I slapped his arm and walked towards the school. He didn't deserve a goodbye after that comment he made. I was so going to struggle to concentrate that day.

First period started at 9am and lasted one hour. RE. RE was bloody pointless. Supposedly learning about possible true miracles such as the miracle of stairway B in the 9/11. Then making a poster which was basically writing out the information that we already had on a piece of A3 paper. I'm not dissing the survivors of the 9/11 or anything, but that lesson was wasting ink, paper, and time.

Maths was 2nd. Maths was even worse. Sitting at the front and learning equations such as

9z2 - 24z + 16

Anyone who mentally enjoys pointless equations is mad.

Break was at 11am and lasted 25 minutes. Third was Physics. It is bearable, but I hate some of the practical's  we do. Rolling a wooden car along the bench to test its velocity and/or speed. What has this got to do with the future of our lives?

Lunch was 12:25pm. But I was not happy as I was missing out on the spaghetti Bolognese because I was forced, by my PE teacher to go to a rounder's club. I so was not happy.