In Hope Of Finding My Writing Again :)

Who Actually Cares?

Jumping to the curb; breathing in the sweet smell of soon to be summer air. The path lay out before me winding streets turning drastically to the left then back to the right again. Hundreds taking the same walk as the one I must take now. My second year coming to a close only for a new year to start. 

Taking my first steps away from the over crowed bus I had just escaped off over to the corner where I would once again wait till my friends bus arrived and the walk to school could finally start. The three inch heel on the bottom of my shoes choosing now to make a loud clacking noise as the rubber wears away. Hitting the side walk as I continue to make my way over to the corner. The first turn in my mile walk to school.

Cars speeding by stopping as the lights change to red. Every car holding a person every person holding a story every story waiting to unfold. Mothers taking their children to early day care where they can run wild while they go to overpriced salons with smiling manicurists just holding out for their pay check. Grumpy unshaven men in cars eating toast that has long gone cold making their slow wait to work. While thinking about the dinner their wives will start cooking soon. Glimpses of lives from the side walk of a road. Who am I to judge? 

The lights finally turn from red to amber and finally to green allowing the sleep deprived drivers the pass to continue. Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of the red pain work of the bus. Lifting my head and waiting for my friend to appear in the revolving doors of the red monster.

As the walk unfolded before us we joked about the lessons to come and the gossip awaiting us when we enter the school grounds. The 'scandals' and 'trickery' from the secrets kept and rumours known.

Complaints as to the weight of our school bags packed with books and homework completed or not is a whole other story. Nearing the school gate I rush to open the black hole of a bag that I call my own. Shuffling threw desperate to find my Velcro tie before my head of year shows up.

Walking through the school gate with my tie firmly in place the glass doors in sight at last. Waiting for students to walk in with their morning stories. Opening as if by magic when my friend runs up to the second set of doors holding her hands up as if to open the doors herself. She turns round grinning from ear to ear when they finally open matching her hand movements making laughter spill across the half full entrance hall.

Avoiding the gossip already in full swing by the time we have arrived. Marching straight over to the table the others have already occupied with their bags and coats. Glancing up at the clock on the stand by the elevator I put my coat on the table and drift around saying hello.

Once our coats are in our lockers and our bags on our shoulders me make our way up red stairs. The high pitched laughter capitalising something classed as funny in the eyes of the class clowns audience. The urge to roll my eyes was strong leaving me going cross eyed and shaking my head as the five or so of us enter the only warm room in the school. The red stairs is our daily hang out. Keeping us at a safe distance from the gossipers down stairs and the soon to start daily argument between the 'best friends'. What would start out with two would soon escalate to half the year. Along with some from the older years who start the chorus of 'FIGHT! FIGHT!' even though there are not fists involved.

I watched as the normal events of a Wednesday morning began to play out before our eyes. Each pupil taking their very own place in their very own crowed. The sporty people, the musical scalars the people that really don't care. Then theirs us.

The people trying to actually pass their GCSE's while we still have the chance. There are some in our group that live for music some that will to be a part of I that magical enchanting clash. Then there are others who have no musical skill what so ever; don't even talk to me about sport either. Hand eye coordination? Yeah right.

The hum of the teachers talking about the pupils they would rather avoid than teach. Those that they believe will go on to great things. Now only if the future really was that easy. To be told something and have it guaranteed. Isn't that why we come to school anyway?

The pips snapped me violently out of my thoughts pulling me back to reality. In reality I had to get to class quick to avoid reserving a detention and really who wants to stay after school for no apparent reason?