The clock chimed Six In the Goldschmit Manor. I heard the bell but I was just too plain tired to go down to dinner. Many people think I have it easy as a millionaire living in Germany, but because of my money my teachers expect more from me. It is as if they think "your rich you can do stuff so you need a good education, but if your poor you can't result to anything so why waste time on you." I was piled with homework. I never got around to hanging with friends or going out on Friday nights. My life just consisted of homework, sleep, and eat. After being called 5 times I finally got my food brought to me in my room. I spent another hour working on a biology project before I drifted off in to a deep slumber.
"Ms. Amber Goldschmit. Ms. Amber Goldschmit you must wake up it is almost time for school." It was the familiar voice of my personal maid Jenny. I looked up and realized I had 25 minuets before I had to be to school. Then my nightmare became true. Right below me was many pages of homework uncompleted. I knew there was no way I was going to have any fun this weekend. It was a rush to try to prep my hair and eat breakfast and get to school on time. The halls were flooded there was the regular gossip girls standing around by the bathrooms and the jocks standing around talking about last night's game. It was unbelievable how they were just standing there when homeroom started in one minute, who would be crazy enough to risk being late? Homeroom was the same two trouble makers laughing at what they did to prank the teacher, a jock throwing paper balls at a nerd, and that one awkward kid that just stares at all the girls wishing he could date one of them. I took a seat at my desk watching as the clock ticked down and the trouble makers got their fifth tardy in the week. It was just disappointing that they didn't care about any of their education. Same style day, Homeroom, math, science, shop. When the bell rang after shop I was ready to go talk with Britney about all the drama of math class, but then I remember I couldn't. She was dead. She was killed last year when the school caught fire. It was all because of that stupid prankster. He thought it would be funny to light everyone's wood sculptures on fire with the blowtorches. They should have been locked up, but they wern't. The fire spread quick taking the whole eighth grade block in under three mineuts. All I could do was stand in the hall and scream at her. Telling her to run. I just kept screaming until I got dizzy and felt my head wonder then I just felt myself fall.
