I move to the left, letting the younger students get pass me to arrive early to their classes.
The walls are covered in posters and notices that, students leave throughout the whole year and never take off.
My class is at the end of the corridor. Or that's what I've been told.
I'm Rebecca. Rebecca Simons. But people at my old school used to call me Becca. I'm seventeen and I don't have a mum, so It's been hard to concentrate at home.
My dad is out most of the day, so I don't know much about him.
I've a brother, Railey, which only goes to school when he has exams. The rest of the year, he spends home playing with a black huge television like machine that irritates my sight and has probably only introduced shit into his tiny teenager brain.
The bell rings just when I'm crossing the bathroom doors, and I, instead of going into class quickly, decide to stay in the bathroom for the next 45 minutes.
And that, my lovelies, tells a huge lot about me.
