A day in the life of Sally Jenkins

Life is your stage

When I was little, I was a very accomplished actress. I would perform all the time to my family. My favourite show I used to watch on television was Angelina Ballerina and I would act out my favourite scenes from an episode that I had just watched to my Grandma every time she came round. I'm surprise she didn't ban me from watching television for the rest of my life! Those were the days...

When you go to school, though, everything changes. Instead of having fun, life is a competition. High school is worse. It is similar to a certain story which sounds quite like The Bunger Dames. You are competing for victory, for life. Well, at least that's what it feels like.

High school drama is different. Although you do still have to compete, it doesn't feel as bad as fighting for your life. That's why drama is still one of my favourite lessons. I can forget about algebra, literature or chemical substances. I feel like a kid again, performing in front of my Nan, my Dad and baby Pamela. That's why Tuesday afternoons are the best part of my week.

However, when Hidi and I walk through the big red doors we are greeted by a terrible sight. There is no stage. No. Stage. All there is left is a tump of rubble. A huge tump of bricks and wood.

"What. The. Hell." Hidi gasps. "What the frog hopping hell"

Just then, Mrs Devan, our drama teacher, rushes in.
"Right girls, since you are early you can set up some chairs in a circle " she pauses, "About 14. Trust Flo to be ill on the first flippin' day!"

"Um, excuse me but WHERE THE HELL IS THE STAGE!" Hidi screams her voice echoes around the now empty room.

"The stage" Mrs Devan says cluelessly. "Oh the stage. Refurbishment." She turns and starts scribbling down something in her notepad.

"Some kind of refurbishment" Hidi murmurs as we start setting up chairs. "More like demolition"

I manage to survive my first day back with only one encounter with the SC's. When I get back home, I change into jeans and a hoodie and go and see Pamela. I love Pamela with all my heart. I always go and see her after school and tell her about my day. She is such a peaceful pig. She always keeps me calm after a long day. I always wonder what she gets up to whilst I am at school. I bet she has a lovely life: eating, sleeping, snorting. I feed her a couple of apples and a potato for her tea and head inside to face what Dad may have attempted to cremate in the microwave.

For once, I think I may have started a good, fresh start and nothing can change it.