He walked down the halls, he could feel their disgusted stares, hear their nasty whispers about him and hear their hushed laughs as he walked passed them. But he ignored them as best as he could.
He was new, a week ago he had came to America for a...
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LEXI
Time moves slower when you look forward to something. Then moves quicker when you don't want a certain day go come.
He laid in his bed staring up at the ceiling, it was a Wednesday mourning. As usual his mother left before he could wake up and left his breakfast in the microwave.
It was a school day, but he decided not to go. He needed a break. . . from his bullies and the mean teachers. His mother wouldn't be angry with him or argue, she knew he was a good student and that he loved school and that he aced in his schoolwork. So if he needed a break from school, then he could have it.
He had showered and ate already, he looked over at his alarm clock.
7:30 am.
He closed his eyes.
Nothing felt better than missing school on a school day. He could just imagine all the other miserable students in his class grumbling about their work— well Math work to be accurate.
On Wednesday's he had math in the mornings, Chemistry after, history then and after lunch they'd have Spanish, IT and lastly Literature.
He sighed and checked how much months he had left in his mind. Three minutes passed as his brain did the math, he had strictly 82.75 days left until he could go back home.
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