Wasted Years

Little town called Springdale

Imagine a town with a huge population of extremely rich moody people. All the houses are the same and all the people pretend to like each other. The kids are always playing outside laughing and giggling and wearing overpriced clothing while their mothers sit on the porch and talk about the latest gossip around town. One of their sons scrapes his knee and it's like all of a sudden he's dying. Now that you pictured that like to introduce you to my town. Springdale, Arkansas. Now I know what you're thinking. Ooo Springdale, home to the world headquarters of Tyson Foods Company, and oh that sounds so great to live there! Wrong, it sucks. Imagine smelling moldy meat mixed with powerplant fumes and sewer smell together. Yeah that's Springdale. Now imagine trailer parks and farmland as far as the eye can see. Now incorporate a high school somewhere in there and put a dairy farm next to it. Yeah that's Shell creek high school. Or as I like to call Crapville. Literally it smells like manure all the time. Go to your locker, manure. Go to lunch, manure. Go to class, manure. Go to gym, manure. Or that maybe Joel Sixts. I swear that kid bathes in his own filth. Yet he still is the most popular kid in school. Captain of the football team but yet still a nice guy. I've never seen that kid make fun of a soul. On the other hand his girlfriend is the opposite. Dana Lockland, captain of the cheerleaders loves dousing on pounds of perfume and has a brain the size of a walnut. Wait actually the size of crumb.

Now how our school managed to get the name Shellcreek when we are nowhere near the ocean is unknown. Pretty much if you hear Shellcreek high school you immediately think of the school labels. Of course there is the jocks and the cheerleaders. Then we have the hockey team, the soccer team, the baseball team, and lacrosse team. Then we have the clubs. There is the farmers club, yes there's a club for that. The drama club, the modeling club, the art club, the journalism club, the guitar club, the technology club, the glee club, the fashion club, and then there is the photography club, which is where I fall into place. We itch for members all the time. Handing out pamphlets, making posters, making pamphlets with a free poster, making posters with a free pamphlet. Doing presentations, making short movies, making short movies with presentations. We do everything you can imagine. Yet they all end the same way, failure. Crumpled paper thrown in the trash, in the recycling, in our lockers, in our faces, at the trashcans, at the recycling bins, at our lockers, at our faces, and for some odd reason at our principles car.

We used to have more members but they all dropped out. They started realizing that we are the coolest club in school at all. So they tried joining the cheerleading team and football team but they never got excepted in, because how our school runs is once a loser always a loser. You'd think there would be no losers because doesn't make any sense for anyone to be one just because of a club your in, but hey people can be mean. You would also think an adult would put a stop to that but no. Why? Only because the teams are run by the coaches and the coaches just so happen to be the captains daddy's and mummy's. Now again I know what your thinking, I just said daddy sand mummy's but that's what they're called around here. Remember I told you about the rich town. Well that is one neighborhood and that's where the coaches and their kids live.

Your probably wondering what brilliant mind has been narrating this story for you. Well if I told you who, that would spoil all the fun..