I get my things out of my grotty rucksack and put them on the desk. The atmosphere is lively in the classroom everyone is smiling and talking to their friends. I sit quietly and face the front. No one ever talks to me. I'm not asking for your sympathy, they think I'm weird. I used to be friends with a girl called Mary but when I started having the nightmares my mum told her mum, and her mum told her and she told everyone else. So now I'm known as the weirdo of the class. Its hard not having friends or people to talk to but I don't like the attention or the drama.
Miss Melberry shows up and tells us all to sit down. I'm lucky enough to have a seat next to the window which means that I can dose off as she tries to explain some algebra thing which I can easily look over when I get home. I prefer to work at home rather than being stuck here for 5 hours, I learn quicker at home anyway. The day goes surprisingly quickly, and before I know it its already lunch. I wait until the others have left the classroom before I get up, I don't want to bring attention to myself. Before I leave I ask Miss Melberry for this weeks essay. Taking creative writing as an A Level was the best option I took, I like the idea of expressing my feelings into a story. Miss hands me the essay and I leave the classroom, I will probably do homework tonight. It might be Friday night but I'm not one to go out and get wasted. Most 17 year old's in the village go to the Wood Barn, someone brings beer which they have taken from the pub and they all get drunk and sneak home just before curfew. It doesn't sound like fun at all.
I go to the small cafeteria, which has become quieter since all the popular kids have left. I grab a tray, and the dinner lady puts a lump of mush on my plate then I go and find a seat. I find a seat on a table which is empty and look down at the lump of mush on the plate. I can't decide whether its meat or just blended vegetables, it looks absolutely revolting but because I'm hungry I manage to eat it. The bell for end of lunch sounds just as I'm finishing off the lump of mush, which was barley edible.
I make my way to my last lesson which is History. The lesson drags, as Professor Killingworth tries to explain the importance of our ancestors in the village. All 17 year old's in the village must take history as an option, we don't get a grade at the end of the year but its seen as compulsory. Today's lesson was on the importance of men and what responsibilities they had in the past. Boring. The professor rambles on for an hour and by the end of the lesson I'm practically asleep.
The sound of the end of school bell is a relief as we all pour out of the school gates and go home. Its already dark when we get outside so most of us hurry to get home. Its not safe when its dark. I run through the streets and pass the shops which are now bored and locked. Most of the villagers are inside and hiding, we never know what's round the corner. As I get to my house I can see my parents sat round the front table with only a candle in the middle which is lighting up the room.I enter the front door, take off my shoes and go into the kitchen where my parents sit there, with stern looks on their faces. I start to feel sick as I instantly know I am in trouble. But the sick feeling grows when I see what my mother has in her hand... Its my sketch book. Full off drawings of the boy from my dream. And before I can stop her shes putting the drawings under the flames of the candle. And one by one I watch the only memories of the boy from my nightmare disappear into the darkness
