Blackbird // Mclennon

Happiness Is A Warm Gun

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     " When I hold you in my arms and I feel my finger on your trigger, I know nobody can do me no harm!
Because... "

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     Tired and sluggish, I walked through a set of large metal doors. I immediately was greeted with the familiar sound of people's footsteps echoing down each corridor. The first day of school was just about to begin. The many different noises of students talking amongst one another filled the atmosphere, just as they had done before Summer break.

     A couple of boys were leaning against the wall, trying to chat up some cute birds, but clearly not succeeding. Other students were sitting in the lunch room, waiting for the bell to ring accompanied by their friends.

     However, once that bell did ring, we were supposed to be in our classes, on time, quietly sat at our desks.

     Notice how I said, "supposed to be."

     Each corridor felt so nostalgic to walk down yet again. Some posters were peeling off the wall that had been there for quite some time. Passing by some rusty, beaten up lockers that were God knows how old, I can still remember my first year here like it was yesterday. Sometimes I have to wonder where all that time went... Lost in thought, I stared down at the tiles beneath my feet as I navigated through the crowded halls.

     I walked into my first class of the day, English class, anxiously shuffling into my seat. Once I sat down, I leaned my rucksack against my desk and dusted my clothes off to make sure I looked somewhat presentable on the first day back.

     "Ey, Paul!" A boy called out from behind me. I could recognize that voice from anywhere.

     I quickly turned around in my seat, "Hah, yeah, Geo?"

     "Do ye got any spare pencils that I can borrow?" He asked me, leaning his hand on the back of my chair. "Also, eh... Happy first day, right?"

     "Ah, c'mon, George... It's the first day back. Of all things, how could ye have forgotten to bring a bloody-" I was saying until the bell rung, thus interrupting me.

     "H- Here, jus take this one, alright?" I said, quietly passing him an old pencil I dug up from the bottom of my rucksack.

     "Thanks, yer a good man!" George chuckled. "Ye make me have a little bit of hope for this school year." He gestured with his fingers, "Jus a little."

     I watched the other students around me, noticing that most people seemed vaguely familiar. I readjusted my chair and stared blankly at the teacher, who was giving us a pointless "first day of school" lecture.

     It may only be the first day back, yet everything already felt so dull. However, about ten or so minutes into the class, the door made a loud creaking sound as it opened, catching the attention of every bored student in the room that was just waiting for something interesting to happen.

     I jolted my head towards the doorway and saw a tall, chestnut-haired boy with a tattered school uniform on, the neck of his shirt unbuttoned, messy, and untucked from his trousers.

     "Ah, so sorry I'm late." He said, letting the door slam behind him. "Traffic, ye know?"

     "You can't fool me, I've been teaching for longer than you've been alive. You walk to get here every morning, don't you?" The teacher asked the boy.

      The boy grinned. "Eh. ...Sidewalks, ye know? Ye'd be surprised how they seem to jus... pile up wi' people!"

The teacher stood there silently for a moment, holding back a grin, "That was absolutely terrible, Lennon." He paused, "Next time, I reckon you make up a better excuse than that one."