Touch;Water (editing) (Book 1)

Rosetta's past

30th of August, 2012, 07:45

Rosetta POV

School, hours over, Friday, wrecked from getting up at 8 am to have a shower and to be at school for 9 am. Every day at school is the just dullest day ever, I'd rather choke on my drink than go into Mr Kennedy's classroom again.

Today, Friday, the wind howls as I walk into school, 1st years running about, hustling and crowded at lockers and elsewhere in the building, in groups. I am not one of those types of 1st years. The intonation bustle of my friends I knew from primary school, who were driving me insane from their nonsense of complaining about this teacher, that teacher, the students from other secondary schools, this cute boy in the sixth year or the bull of them all.

I took my books for whatever classes I had and went to my base classroom for my first class, which was CSPE (Civic, Social and Political Education) according to my timetable on the first hard backside of my school journal.

I remember sitting in my seat and interacting with my friends, our tutor made her way into the classroom and the room was almost quiet. Jesus, I could never forget how Mrs Lynch (My tutor/main teacher) had such a big nose, it was curved and beaky, but not she's not as strict as Mr Moore who has the biggest mole on the left side of his cheek, it could almost take up his whole face... it's freaking massive! He's so airheaded as well, smells like tuna (I hate fish) and looks like he's balding.

Oh man, I'm hilarious, I whispered how I describe both of our teachers to my friends Ailbhe and Clodagh, both sneering with laughter when Mrs Lynch had to step outside of the classroom to talk to Mr Moore. After the class stopped erupting with chatter, she came back in and sat down, beginning to teach... please kill me.

I paid attention to what she was rambling about what she was saying, for once as she was explaining what an active citizen was, which means someone who takes all responsibility for areas of public concern such as crime involvement. Also suggested that we be involved with the environment to work on a project. I'd rather run for four miles a day than sell my soul to help plant flowers and do garden stuff.

Next class, Maths... ugh, great.
Mr Moore teaches me maths, which we had last. He could barely keep his eyes off the board, kept dropping the whiteboard marking and asked me to call out the answer, why couldn't he have asked Adisa or Gráinne who was barely paying any attention? I found maths about as dry and boring as burnt toast. I'd rather become allergic to avocados than hear Mr Moore go algebra for the 50th time.

You know, I'm good at Maths but that doesn't mean I like it. I swear, I think Adisa(a student in my class) was sinking into his desk because of how tired he was and how boring Mr Moore was, who kept repeating and mixing up his words, which is more like slurry words to me.

Next class, SPHE (Social, Personal and Health Education)
Ok, Miss. Burke, dependably had the appearance of a moderately aged housewife gone to hell. She looked at the class like she had eyes that created crow's feet. Her eyebrows were so flimsy as to be scarcely there and her eyelashes were short and squat. Wait, why does she look like an ostrich? The rest of the classes aren't very interesting to go through, not looking forward to the next class. She read out the introduction to the book, which said 'as part of the curriculum, supports the personal development, health and well-being of young people and helps them create and maintain supportive relationships.' She's related to an ostrich if she looks like one.

Next class, Religion
Fell asleep in class as not many people aren't fond of the subject and neither am I. It's lashing rain, typical class, I'm not going to judge anyone for their own beliefs and whatnot but I'd rather be in some tropical place, in fewer layers and sunbathing, than walking down to the bus stop in that cold, miserable, spitting ... oh yay, the class is over!