High School Hell

by Nancy D about a year ago in psychological

A Fictional Story

High School Hell

The school bell rang; it was time to go to class. I always thought it was weird that we all responded to a bell. The bell rings, we go to class. The bell rings again, we go to another class. It reminded me of herding cattle or sheep. My father says that everyone in high school are just sheep. I don’t want to go in there. The building is big, bulky and all gray. It looks just as depressing as my life. I watched everyone walk towards the building, looking for familiar faces. There were Anne Joynt, Jenna Whyte and, of course, Tommy. Anne Joynt was nice to me, but I know she is really judging me. Jenna Whyte always says what she is really thinking, which is usually just rude. Tommy never even thinks about me.

Following everyone into the building, my hands started to sweat and my legs started to shake. I hate people and I hate crowds. This hallway is always so crowded, forcing us all to walk slowly. A strong smell of body odor suddenly hit me in the face. Is the smell coming from me? Smack! I walked right into the girl in front of me as I tried to smell my own shirt.

“Watch it, loser!” She turned around just to scream at me.

“Oh my god, can you believe her?” I heard another voice from the crowd.

Is it even legal to have this many people in one building? I hate school; everyone here thinks I’m a freak.

As I entered homeroom, everyone started talking at once.

“Oh no, it’s her again,” "Why doesn’t she just drop out?” “Didn’t she wear those same pants yesterday?” “She is such a slut.”

I tried to shut them out. They are just jealous, because I’m special; I know that’s true. As Mr. Elliot started talking, they all finally shut up.

“Have you ever seen an Egyptian Pyramid? They’re bigger than this school,” he said enthusiastically.

I watched intensely as he put a picture of a Pyramid at the front of the class; the photo was small and in black and white. Mr. Elliot continued to speak; his high-pitched voice really annoyed me.

“Hard to appreciate ancient Egypt inside a classroom, isn’t it? Which is why we are going on a walk,” he said.

He was serious; he actually meant to teach the rest of the classroom outside.

“As far as we walk is as long as a pyramid is,” Mr. Elliot said.

Walking out of that classroom was an amazing feeling. I have never felt so free.

Mr. Elliot was talking about ancient Egypt the entire walk. However, I didn’t really have much interest. As we walked down the sidewalk, I tried to find a place to belong, someone to stand next to. The harder I tried to be a part of the crowd, the more there seemed to be a gap between me and everyone else. I don’t belong here. I’d rather be anywhere else than here. Suddenly, the group stopped walking. I looked around in confusion, because I wasn’t paying attention.

“… now you know how hard it is to truly understand history from a classroom, it’s so much larger than us,” Mr. Elliot said. God, I find his voice so annoying.

Although, I must admit, if an Egyptian Pyramid really is as long as we walked, it is much larger than I had thought.

“Lets go back to class,” the teacher says abruptly.

I won’t go back. I walked slowly as everyone passed me. Waiting for my escape. Looking around, I can see that no one is looking at me. My heart is racing from this escape. Why do I even care if I’m breaking the rules? Jumping into a large bush, I scraped my arm on one of the twigs.

“Ouch,” I said out loud.

I peaked my head out of the bush. No one was close enough to hear my cry of pain. Now that I think about it, casually walking away would have done just fine. I didn’t really need to jump into a bush. Starting to walk towards the mall, I can’t help but think. It’s not the same for me at school as it is for other students. Everyone else has fun at school, but I’m in hell. School isn’t worth it. I can get an education at the library. I don’t belong at school; the other students are all out to get me. They are jealous because I can hear people’s thoughts, and they can’t. It’s not my fault that I have this ability.

Then a new voice that I had never heard before began to whisper to me, “Burn the school. Burn the school. Burn the school.” It was then that I realized that I also have the ability to hear aliens talking to me.

How does it work?
Read next: Run Necromancer
Nancy D

Facebook @NancyDBlogging

Twitter @BlogsNancy 

See all posts by Nancy D