Tracy goes to school... her early life.

TRACY GOES TO SCHOOL…

I was sat on the warm, sticky floor in my classroom. I was only having fun; Mrs Falstaff seemed to think it was almost illegal to throw paper aeroplanes around the classroom. I didn’t deserve to be kept inside, missing break time, just because I was trying to have fun.

As soon as break time was over, I had another lesson of boring ‘moths,’ or whatever they call it! I was five years old but it was my second day at this horrible school. All I did was put up my hand and ask if I could have an ice cream. Mrs Falstaff was disgusted and replied with a stern face, “No, you may not have an ice cream. This school does not tolerate this kind of nonsense, Miss Beaker!”

“I can have ice creams whenever I want at the care home,” I argued, “so give me an ice-cream now!”

“Your carer may give you what you want but this school is not a restaurant, now get on with your maths activity book,” moaned Mrs Falstaff.

Mrs Falstaff gazed repeatedly at the ceiling. She had no sense of style and I couldn’t help smirking at her army green handbag, dangling on her chair, smothered in what looked like blobs of silver nail varnish. She wasn’t very impressed with Justine-can’t remember-how big-my-bum-is Little wood, either (who is always bickering about fashion gossip in class). Justine lives in the same care home that I live in; she is not a good friend. All she does is provokes everyone into getting angry with her. For example, Peter (who also lives in the care home) once got so angry with her, that he punched one of her teeth out. Then, Justine poo pants hurried off crying, getting everyone’s attention, trying to find jenny and really put Peter on the hot spot. She’s always such a snitch, showing everyone what had happened to her (more like something that she deserved!).

I was startled and embarrassed when Mrs Falstaff had found me asleep at my desk, dribbling on the table-top (I was dreaming about Justine can’t-read-a-thing Little wood being squashed by my mum’s limo!). Justine was giggling with a long, blonde haired girl. Her name was Louise; she too lives in the care home with me. She used to be MY friend, till Justine child-snatcher Little Wood came along to the care home. And that was when things started to change far too much for me to handle. Louise had become Justine’s best friend, and worst yet, they were both now my enemies.

All the hard work had finally paid off, it was lunchtime. I was going to get revenge on Louise, and…

“Justine the snitch!” I cried out, accidentally. Justine flooded into tears when she saw Louise laughing at what I had said and she quickly poked her tongue out before her head disappeared under her bony arms.

“Mrs Falstaff!” screamed Justine, “she-she called me a snitch!” Mrs Falstaff completely ignored her poor act to blame me (again).Justine didn’t bother to tell of Louise, although by the looks of what she telling her then, she was going to give poor Louise a good spanking, later on!

However, at lunchtime, Elaine the pain (the mean, old social worker at the children’s home) had packed me the most revolting lunch I had ever seen. Filled with crunchy bone sandwiches, mouldy cobweb salad, salty sea water for a drink, and topped off with rat droppings instead of healthy, half-yucky raisins...

 Well, actually, to be honest…   there was nothing like that in my lunchbox at all (but I’m sure Elaine the pain is still trying to hatch a plan to get rid of me). In fact I had celery and cheese sandwiches, pickled onions and cucumber salad with prune juice and a box of sausage, mash and gravy flavoured jelly beans (yuck!). Why would I want a box of flavoured jelly beans like that, anyway? I knew what it was without even looking at it. It was the kind of thing that made me want to throw up everywhere. The gravy flavoured jelly bean swam through my blood and settled in my stomach uncomfortably.