Hello friend,
It's Louis again.
Today I had my first day at Trinity high.
There are many words I could use to desribe this six hours of torture.
Like I just added, torturious, terrifying, anxious, And I could really go on and on.As I entered the building I felt the rush of anxiety and fear take over my body, but I did make a new friend, If you would include my english teacher.
I take advanced English so I was a bit excited to learn with the smartest kids in school.
But there is always the fear of messing up that takes over my brain.
After English, I had basic math. Math is not my strongest subject so I learn algebra and such with the less intellegent, or those in need of more help.
But there is this kid, when Mr. Lee called role call , he said Harry Styles I believe. Its such a beautiful name, for a beautiful boy, I admired the look on his face as he raised his hand and his eyes widened up, because he knew that the teacher knew, that he knew the answer.
Harold sat in the front of class as I took a compfy seat in the back, I sat at a table by myself but I chose it, to aviod people looking at me funny as the confused look spread across my face as I gazed over X ponents and calculous.
After the bell rang I rushed through crowded halls, unfortunately, Harry did bump into me, causing me to fall over and spill my things as my first resort was to mumble "stupid piece of shit" to myself as I picked up my things and he walked off, a crowd of friends following him as they all laughed.
That day went by longer then I was hoping but atleast it is over.
I currently sit on the bench as I wait for my mum to pick me up, since after having a nervous break out while taking my drivers test, I do not have my drivers liscence yet.
But, Harold is standing in a circle of tall, fit teenagers, laughing even though I have been evesdropping and no body said anything funny.
I guess its just me and my inability to understand how people can push reality away so simply.
I keep looking over at him, He just looks to beautiful, as the tight fabric of his black jeans cover his legs and a white Vans off the wall t-shirt hung off his torso.
The corners off my lips tugged into a smile as I forced it away, Standing up, pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, eventually shoving this jounral into my backpack.
Good bye friend, You will hear from me very soon.
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YOU ARE READING
Slavery
أدب الهواةLouis Tomlinson. "I'm not okay." Louis muttered. Pearly whites daggers into the thin accumulation above his cilium. "You're okay." Harry whispered. Pleasing curl displayed among his mouth, stretching ear to ear in density of a smirk.