Once inside the bell echoes round the hall. I enter into the classroom where mrs hutchinson gives me her usual icy stare.
Shes a large woman with curly hair, 70s style and an old croaky voice. She ushers everyone in to hurry and sit down, looking through me like im nobody.
She starts her teaching with all her big words expecting us to know what shes talking about. She knows i struggle to learn more than the rest of the class but doesnt care. When she walks round the class checking the work she demands to know why ive only written 6 lines when everyone else has done over half a page. I try to explain but she's not interested, tries to tell me theres no excuses to be slow in life so dont be slow at school, And continues to make me stay in at breaktime to finish.
Ive spent so many breaktimes stuck in this dingy classroom staring out the window wondering if ill ever be missed. Just making me more determined to carry this through.
YOU ARE READING
Suicidal Tendancies
Short StoryJemma's had enough, enough of being picked on at school, picked on by the teachers and her parents and hated by the world. So she decides to end it all only to discover not everything was as bad as it seemed - but by then it was too late.
