We're the "Soft" Spoken

Sch-cruel

"Okay so that is your assignment. Does anyone have any questions? Oh yes, Sky?"

"Yeah. Why is a hippo sized, female dog on hind legs wearing a dress that looks like someone who "tasted the rainbow" vomit on then added gems to it with boots to match is telling us that we must do a ten page report on drugs impact on youth when you yourself look under the influence and some how manage to pass your driving test to come here and tell us this right before summer break?!"

10 SECOND REWIND

"Oh yes, Sky?"

"How many grades is it worth?"

Now, everyone has had this moment.That moment when the teacher pushes you only decimeters away from your honest rage speech, then realized if if you do speak your mind, and everyone else, that you would be suspended, expelled or get a beating so bad from your parents you can not sit down for months.

BUT THAT IS THE TRUTH...that I must bottle up inside because if I let my true feelings pour out, the reality of it would be...not something you want to sick around for to see.

Thanks Industrial Revolution for making every child's fate into reading and writing about history or some old guys that we might not need to know in the future.

That's why I call the ever so familiar legal prison "school" Sch-cruel(if you don't get it yet the word cruel is in there). I would have on going arguments with my parents on how school is not necessary for a person who wants to major in Graphic Art Designs in college. Though my argument is always proven right, my parents always repeat their may points why I "should" go:

Friends

Free Food and...the thing you all have been waiting for...

KNOWLEDGE!(Jazz Hands) Big whoop.

Well now I'm here...again...at Sch-cruel for my sophomore year of high school, yay, with my book bag filled with paper, a notebook, pencils and that ten page report that is due today to my new English teacher, Mrs. Lodenqui.

I heard she was chill.

I entered her class to find the room divided in the school groups, one seat open in the back, and my new teacher seating behind her desk reading something. What are the school groups you may ask?The ones that are in every school. You got the "cool" kids, the athletes, non-looking nerds, nerd looking-nerds, anime geeks and geeks in general, and then the bridgers.

I, myself, am a bridger connecting the athletes with the non-looking nerds and some "cool" kids that I met form group assignments.

I make my way to the back of the class, take a seat at my new desk and write my name with one of my permanent markers. Skylar Danes is now the upper left hand corner of my desk, since I'm a lefty.

Now, I know what your thinking, " You are defacing the schools property that the tax payers dollars were BLAH BLAH BLAH!" I have been doing this since sixth grade because Scott Thomas took my seat in Math class and said he would not move because "the seat didn't have my name out it!" Well, now it does.

The bell then rings at 7:20am beginning the class. Everyone who was standing and sitting as well as the people who were standing near their desk. All phones and Nintendos disappear. The class is silent and ready for Mrs. Lodenqui to do her "beginning of the year teacher speech".

"Welcome Sophomores!" she starts," My name is Mrs. Lodenqui and I will be your Pre-AP English teacher. You will hardly get homework but there will be numerous class assignments. A.so, you can eat in my class."

I... love...this...TEACHER!!!

"Now that you know me, tell me about yourself. Name, age, favorite color, hobbies, what you want to be and where you want to go. Lett's start the left side."

One of the "cool" kids started it off then the athletes, nerd looking-nerds then me. I got up from my seat with everyone craning their necks to see me.

"I'm Skylar Danes, you can call me Sky. Soy dieciseis años, so I'm sixteen. My favorite color is orange. Hobbies? I draw, pay basketball here on the varsity team, and I speak Spanish. I want to be a Graphic Arts Designer and I don't know where I want to go."