What they really are

What they really are-The hell called school

School, I hate the word. It drones on.. for 6 hours straight. Remember when you were younger and you would go to bed really early and get up the following day, excited to go to school? And that soon ended. That ended when we got lazy and didn't want to go anymore. Perhaps we lost interest in it or perhaps the people that were there didn't treat us right. Either way, it's now hell. And do you know what's worse? A monday. That's double hell.

And do you know what's worse than a Monday at school? One of your friends being even angrier with you than ever before. That triple hell. I cycled down to the front of school and there they stood. Staring at me. Staring into my soul. Most likely judging me. My friendship group is strange, and a lot of the time I feel left out. But surely that's not how I should be made to feel by my own friends.

Not that they care, so I continue to live in my own world. I walked down the corridor and headed to my first class, maths. Maths.. on a Monday. I headed to my desk and sat down. Most of the time people just tend to stay in their own seats but for some reason Max just had to sit down right next to me. Throughout the class I stared at the teacher, trying to completely avoid any eye contact with him. There's a blind spot which is where you can't see beyond a certain point either side and to the back of you. He was sat right on the verge. This was because I had perched myself on the edge of my seat to get as far away as possible from him.

Which was working until I saw him folding an A4 piece of paper and then throwing a paper aeroplane at the back of my head. I kept my cool and decided not to turn around but before I knew it the whole class were laughing. So I turned around and stayed quiet. My face flushed bright red. And it stayed like that. Until the end of class to which the bell saved me as I rushed out.

So fast, in fact, that I tripped up and my books tumbled on to the floor, infront of the lockers. And there he was again, staring at me, grabbing my books and helping me up a again. I shoved him off me to show Maisy that nothing was going on but yet I looked up and saw her moody expression.