Promenading down the school hallways, I greet my friends with courteous grins and light hellos. As I approach my class, beautiful eyes greet mine .
"Hey Derek, how's it going?" I ask my boyfriend.
"Great." He answers with a smile.
We pace into English class together. I love English, but one thing I hate is this teacher. She rambles on and on about her daughter all day and all we do is smile and nod promptly. The next minute everyone will look at their friends and roll their eyes. That's just how high school is.
She literally makes me want to fall asleep. I vision my head laying on a pillow and start to write a poem on a extra sheet of lose leaf paper I have:
I look forward to the day
When my head collides with a pillow
And my eyes close shut
My mind wandering to far away places
Away
Away
Away
I drift.
Next thing I do is look up and see my teacher standing above me complementing me on my paper,
"Nice handwriting you have Miss Smith. Write like that in class and you might actually get an A for once."
I've never been one to try real hard school, even before my brothers passing. Which reminds me,
"Hey Derek? I went somewhere yesterday, I mean to tell you. Can you come over soon? I'll have to discuss with Becca but I think we can work it out." He answers yes.
School goes by in a breeze, which surprises me. Words whirl in my head like numerous water colors on paper swirled with a paintbrush from my last class. My head hurts from the effort it takes to listen to such boring information. We won't even be using half of this in life, so what's the point of learning it!
