The Painter

Classes...

     As I walk to purple pod I look at the walls. This pod is more dedicated to marine animals. You know with paintings of whales and other sea creatures. I looked at the schedule in my hand, room 302. Right next to the row of number was arrow with all the teachers names. I quickly looked and saw that my teacher's name was Mrs. Rogers. Even though school schedules never really told you if your teacher was a girl or a guy, you only saw their last name. But I had met her during the summer while I was adding on to purple pods paintings.

     Mrs. Rogers was a physics teacher...Yeah, yeah... I know I'm supposed to be in chemistry in tenth grade, but back in 8th grade I took biology and geometry. So, yeah, I guess you can call me a nerd, and I only say that is because I choose to be in these classes. The school gave me a choice to stay in regular classes or move up. And I didn't even really ask my parents, I just assumed the would want me to be in honours.

     "Hi, class! Good morning, how are you?" she asked the class.

     "Good morning." the class said together, almost everyone, I didn't. Then you could hear all the different answer of people just wanting shout out how the were fine, tired, okay, good and bluh...

     "Okay here are some of the basic classroom rules. When we have labs..." my mind trailed off as she started listing the main classroom rules for a science class that you could find all over her walls. That's when I blanked out, I got a piece of paper out along with a pen and started doodling that's what I do when I spaced out, I just started drawing.

     After about 20 ish minutes I snapped out of it because of some stupid kid dropping their books trying to get a rise out of the teacher. I looked down at the paper surprised to see an attic space. All I can remember about the attic is it was my grandfather's spooky creepy one. It really freaked me out when I had to go clean it when I was a kid, I swear I saw that in there one time. I started to study the picture and why was I thinking about his old attic... When I looked closer I had written words, very small, on one of the frames of the roof.

     "Come find me in the place where old stuff is kept, until you can paint your way out of life itself." what was that supposed to mean? Why did I write this? "It's not like... Maybe it is... Maybe I'm just going crazy..." I told myself.

     "Okay, class, that's all the time we have for today. I wanted to leave you a few minutes to talk with old friends about summer. Would anyone like to share what they did over the summer?" she is like most teachers do when they want to seem like they care. If you the people who like to brag a lot started to raise their hands. I didn't bother to listen those kids probably already told half the school. And that have to school was only willing to listen to them because they were either freshmen or doing it because they wanted to become popular. So I guess they think by being friends they'll probably become popular I get a lot of money. But most of them don't become popular so who cares? Not me...

     You could barely hear the tiny bell over all the people talking. I walked out of the classroom to go to my English language arts. It's funny how high school works and they make you take two of your academic classes and then two electives. You know, electives are like your music classes, and academics are your math and science and that's stuff.

     After looking around at the new freshmen knowing they were about to get picked or lost. They look down at the piece of paper on top of all my binders that I was carrying. Crap! I said to myself... I've been walking to English on my next class is PE, and I was on the other side of the school. I took off at a jog, which was probably faster then most people would jog. I've had about 3 minutes left.

     When I finally made it to PE I had about a minute left to get into my gym shorts and shoes. Then I had to walk out of the locker room into the gym and have a seat on the floor where the teacher told me to. The teacher looked a little mad that I was barely on time. She pointed to a seat on the floor right next to a blonde cheerleader, whose hair was neatly in a ponytail.

     After everyone got seated they started talking about how the class is going to be... Like every other teacher in the school on the starting day. I wasn't really listening something about football and some other catching Sports didn't really interest me.

     That's all I really remember about that day... and the rest of the day all I could think about was the drawing about the Attic period doesn't rest of the week was also like that with teachers basically expanding the curriculum and what we'll be doing in their class. Some teachers even gave out little worksheets for homework... Easy and boring... and all I can probably tell you about the week was that my 3rd block was German and my fourth block was English. Plus I can tell you that the bullying just got worse. More and more people kept bumping into me, not saying sorry, knocking the books out of my hands, pushing me into lockers, and some even started saying mean things about me behind my back to others.