Melissa Riley Is Suddenly Visible

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Its 11 o'clock, my stomach protesting the fact that it hasn't gotten lunch yet on a Moday, the Iowa weather outisde beginnign to turn from early fall to cold, crisp late fall. Im a Junior at Postville Public High School. So, naturally, I'm awake and off to learn. I sigh, plopping down into my desired back-row desk in English II. My favorite class.

Literature has been an easy escape for me since I was a little girl. You can read of other people's glamorous, totally cliché lives, or more so, write about them.

"Good morning class," beams an overly-happy Mr. Penner, only earning multiple groans in response. I, on the other hand, have a very small smile on my face.

"Morning!" Calls out a jock in a mocking voice, earning many tired laughs.

"I have great news!" Mr. Penner beams at us, "You will all be writing me an essay that is due Wednesday!"

Everyone moans and groans, obviously not as happy as the teacher.

"Write about what you think of your peers."

This will be all too easy.

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