Aisuru Sketch
School. It's a Thing.
School is a thing we must do.
It's not a choice, we don't get to decide whether we do it or not, we just have to do it.
After GCSE I had the choice to not go to my school anymore. How wonderful it would have been to bid goodbye to the dreary school, with its gloomy hallways. The walls with the layers of white paint chipping off, and the carpets with old, black chewing gum forever embedded into the fabric. The green painted stairs, the green pull-blinds, the green trash cans...not to mention the never ending construction work. The church gardens, where the Upper school students would congregate between lessons. The cold, echo-y church, where we would have to sit every Monday morning, and crane our necks to get a glimpse of the occasional, worth seeing presentations at the altar. The soda vending machine, which, ironically never worked, while the water vending machine was always in tip top condition. The high pitched squeals of students, or the dreary, dull grunts of the teachers, giving the morning presentation over the tannoy.
Yes, I hold many fond memories of my time at secondary school -insert sarcastic snort here- As soon as GCSE's were over I was reeling at the thought of what it would be like to never have to return to that God forsaken building ever again. It was finally over! 5 long years were finally finished with and I was free!
A year later, and here I am. Gazing regrettably at that same building. Wishing with all my heart and soul that I could go back in time and study for my exams. Oh, it's too late now. Now I'm doing A level at the same school.
What I wanted was a change of scenery, what I got was a kick up the ass.
I wanted to take A level at another school, but with my pathetic excuse for grades at GCSE, that was all but a dream. My school were the only ones that would be willing to give me a chance to redeem myself. Any other school would turn their nose up at me and kick me out onto the streets.
I was happy that my school allowed me in despite my grades, but even that came with a sacrifice. Instead of doing the subjects I had actually wanted to do, I had to do ones that my grades would actually cater for. I wanted to do Fine Art, I ended up with Textiles. Biggest waste of my life.
And then there's ICT. BIG MISTAKE. THE BANE OF MY LIFE.
Media studies. Actually is very enjoyable and the only lesson I don't dread going to.
As you can see I really love school.
Yeah, sure.
The only thing that makes it more bearable is the fact that it's the only place I can see my wonderful friends every single day. Pretty much all my friends stayed on at our school for upper school, and I made friends with a few of the n00bs too. Yep, we call all the people who came to our year 12 from other schools n00bs. That's how nice we are.
Now when you reach year 12 you're given the privilege to have free lessons, known as studies. It's not really what I would consider a privilege, since your stuck in a dingy little basement room with the other study students and one pissy teacher, who would rather be somewhere else; and be forced to do your homework on computers that are crappy, spend half their time crashing, and occasionally have no mouse or keyboard. At first, everyone was good, and respected the 'work in silence' rule. We took into consideration that we had to get our assignments done for the good of our grades. After a while though, we all just gave up, and only actually did work when we desperately needed to get it done. My studies were either spent talking to my friends, drawing, reading online manga, or playing cards. And this is coming from the girl that failed GCSE so spectacularly that there were fireworks as she crashed to earth like a flaming comet.
School came once again, as I trudged to the school gate one Monday morning. It was 7:45. School didn't officially start 'till 8:30, and yet somehow I always managed to turn up unnecessarily early.
There must be something wrong with me...
"Greetings, Earthling"
I groaned silently as I heard the sound of a familiar voice behind me. I turned to see none other than the resident Dork-nerd spectacular, Maurice Coleman. He even had the most spectacular Dork-nerd name.
Now don't get me wrong, it's not that I hate this guy. Actually we get along pretty well. It's just the fact that seeing him this early in the morning isn't my idea of the perfect Monday feeling.
"What do you want...?" I grumbled, emphasising the length of my syllables to sound just that little more annoyed. He gave me the look that said 'Why are you always such a bitch?'
"Don't look so gloomy, school's not that bad" He smirked "I mean, if you hated it that much, you wouldn't be here so early"
I rolled my eyes at him. He never ceased to find ways to irritate me when I least wanted him around. I used my trademark silent treatment, and wondered in the direction of the swipe pads.
Yeah, our school was so lame, that they spent money on a useless swipe card system that spent half it's time screwing up. I fumbled with my swipe card, attempting to pull it out of my pocket, where it had somehow got tangled with my house keys. Once I had one my feeble wrestling match with the piece of plastic with a really gross picture of me on it, I pressed it onto the swipe pad, praying that the green light would flash on.
It didn't.
I groaned and removed the card, before slamming it back on the pad, and then moving it up and down futilely, hoping that the green light would appear before I snapped and pulled the whole thing off the wall. Of course, to make things more amazing, Maurice was standing behind me, watching as I lost a match against the swipe card pad.
He made a snorting noise, which I guess was him attempting to laugh mockingly. He failed, sounding more like a piglet on crack. So I turned to him and shoved my card at his chest.
"If you find it so damn amusing you do it for me!" I growled, glaring up at him. I guess I failed at being threatening when the person I was trying to scare towered above me in height.
"Alright then" He said, giving me a smart aleck look. I watched as he swiped my card, and with one touch, the little green light flashed on. He turned to me and smirked. I scowled and snatched the card from him.
"You got lucky, Mori" I said, turning from him.
"A thank you would have been nice!" He called out after me, only to be ignored as I stomped away.
"You did that on purpose to make me look stupid, didn't you?" I hissed looking at my card, before chucking it into my pocket.
Ah, what a great start to a Monday morning.
I sighed, and leaned back on the wooden bench, pulling my sleeves over my hands. The church was cold as ever. I stared aimlessly up at the ornate ceiling as the priest rambled on about something I had lost interest in about ten minutes earlier. I drifted off for a while before feeling something nudge my elbow. I looked to my left from the corner of my eye to see a dark Asian girl prodding me with her hymn book.
"Rami...quit it." I whispered. Rami, or Ramica as her parents had named her, was one of the n00bs. One of the very few n00bs I had bothered to socialize with. She was quite dark skinned, and had deep chocolatey brown eyes. Her hair was a big black bush on her head. She never seemed to be able to keep it neat...actually I don't think she ever bothered.
"But it's hymn time!" She grinned, and I noticed that everyone had began standing up to the drone of the church organ. I dragged myself off the cold, wooden bench and peered lazily over the balcony. The poor naive lower schoolers in their blue and green uniforms. Life was simple for them. They only had SATs to worry about. How I wished I was back in Primary school, running rampant, without a care in the world.
I stared blankly at the open hymn book, as the rest of the school began to sing 'Shine Jesus Shine' glancing over at Rami who was also signing. She liked to sing. The only problem was that she sounded like a dead donkey releasing gas. My eyes trailed over to the opposite balcony. I caught a glimpse of my other friend Erika. She had been my friend since the very beginning. Back in the first year, when we were naive, bright eyed pre teens. What good days they were.
My gaze shifted a few rows across, where it was caught by a shock of peroxide blonde hair. I rolled my eyes, repulsed. He had dyed his hair. What was wrong with brown hair? Sure it was boring, but at least it looked normal. That was Fletcher. He used to be quite the pimp at first. He was good looking and all the girls wanted to hang around him, and he would give hugs to just about every girl he saw. Except me of course. But that was mainly because I ignored him. I didn't care for guys like him, all he did was annoy me. Just one look at him was enough to make me want to punch his lights out. Erika hated him too. She was paired up with him in ICT, and as soon as the lesson was over she complained to me about how annoying he was. We both took part in Fletcher-bashing after that. He was the only one there to bash really. All the other people we hated had left after year 11. The n00bs weren't hateworthy so far, so we left them alone. We would bash Mori, but that's more like friendly abuse, then actually hate bashing.
Peroxide head seemed to be fascinated with the floor at that moment. What a dipwad.
I then caught sight of Mori, who was gazing at the chandelier. I kinda wished I had something to toss at him. I wanted payback for this morning. Revenge.
And then the mind numbing singling stopped, and everyone sat back down. The headteacher came up to the mic to speak, and my brain automatically switched off again. I yawned as I fiddled absent mindedly with one of the ringlets in my hair. Stupid ringlets. They annoyed the crap out of me.
So, church was just an excuse for me to not pay attention. And Mondays were my least constructive days. I had studies nearly all day. All day every other week. Thursday was pretty lame too.
Let the week commence...*eye roll*
It's not a choice, we don't get to decide whether we do it or not, we just have to do it.
After GCSE I had the choice to not go to my school anymore. How wonderful it would have been to bid goodbye to the dreary school, with its gloomy hallways. The walls with the layers of white paint chipping off, and the carpets with old, black chewing gum forever embedded into the fabric. The green painted stairs, the green pull-blinds, the green trash cans...not to mention the never ending construction work. The church gardens, where the Upper school students would congregate between lessons. The cold, echo-y church, where we would have to sit every Monday morning, and crane our necks to get a glimpse of the occasional, worth seeing presentations at the altar. The soda vending machine, which, ironically never worked, while the water vending machine was always in tip top condition. The high pitched squeals of students, or the dreary, dull grunts of the teachers, giving the morning presentation over the tannoy.
Yes, I hold many fond memories of my time at secondary school -insert sarcastic snort here- As soon as GCSE's were over I was reeling at the thought of what it would be like to never have to return to that God forsaken building ever again. It was finally over! 5 long years were finally finished with and I was free!
A year later, and here I am. Gazing regrettably at that same building. Wishing with all my heart and soul that I could go back in time and study for my exams. Oh, it's too late now. Now I'm doing A level at the same school.
What I wanted was a change of scenery, what I got was a kick up the ass.
I wanted to take A level at another school, but with my pathetic excuse for grades at GCSE, that was all but a dream. My school were the only ones that would be willing to give me a chance to redeem myself. Any other school would turn their nose up at me and kick me out onto the streets.
I was happy that my school allowed me in despite my grades, but even that came with a sacrifice. Instead of doing the subjects I had actually wanted to do, I had to do ones that my grades would actually cater for. I wanted to do Fine Art, I ended up with Textiles. Biggest waste of my life.
And then there's ICT. BIG MISTAKE. THE BANE OF MY LIFE.
Media studies. Actually is very enjoyable and the only lesson I don't dread going to.
As you can see I really love school.
Yeah, sure.
The only thing that makes it more bearable is the fact that it's the only place I can see my wonderful friends every single day. Pretty much all my friends stayed on at our school for upper school, and I made friends with a few of the n00bs too. Yep, we call all the people who came to our year 12 from other schools n00bs. That's how nice we are.
Now when you reach year 12 you're given the privilege to have free lessons, known as studies. It's not really what I would consider a privilege, since your stuck in a dingy little basement room with the other study students and one pissy teacher, who would rather be somewhere else; and be forced to do your homework on computers that are crappy, spend half their time crashing, and occasionally have no mouse or keyboard. At first, everyone was good, and respected the 'work in silence' rule. We took into consideration that we had to get our assignments done for the good of our grades. After a while though, we all just gave up, and only actually did work when we desperately needed to get it done. My studies were either spent talking to my friends, drawing, reading online manga, or playing cards. And this is coming from the girl that failed GCSE so spectacularly that there were fireworks as she crashed to earth like a flaming comet.
School came once again, as I trudged to the school gate one Monday morning. It was 7:45. School didn't officially start 'till 8:30, and yet somehow I always managed to turn up unnecessarily early.
There must be something wrong with me...
"Greetings, Earthling"
I groaned silently as I heard the sound of a familiar voice behind me. I turned to see none other than the resident Dork-nerd spectacular, Maurice Coleman. He even had the most spectacular Dork-nerd name.
Now don't get me wrong, it's not that I hate this guy. Actually we get along pretty well. It's just the fact that seeing him this early in the morning isn't my idea of the perfect Monday feeling.
"What do you want...?" I grumbled, emphasising the length of my syllables to sound just that little more annoyed. He gave me the look that said 'Why are you always such a bitch?'
"Don't look so gloomy, school's not that bad" He smirked "I mean, if you hated it that much, you wouldn't be here so early"
I rolled my eyes at him. He never ceased to find ways to irritate me when I least wanted him around. I used my trademark silent treatment, and wondered in the direction of the swipe pads.
Yeah, our school was so lame, that they spent money on a useless swipe card system that spent half it's time screwing up. I fumbled with my swipe card, attempting to pull it out of my pocket, where it had somehow got tangled with my house keys. Once I had one my feeble wrestling match with the piece of plastic with a really gross picture of me on it, I pressed it onto the swipe pad, praying that the green light would flash on.
It didn't.
I groaned and removed the card, before slamming it back on the pad, and then moving it up and down futilely, hoping that the green light would appear before I snapped and pulled the whole thing off the wall. Of course, to make things more amazing, Maurice was standing behind me, watching as I lost a match against the swipe card pad.
He made a snorting noise, which I guess was him attempting to laugh mockingly. He failed, sounding more like a piglet on crack. So I turned to him and shoved my card at his chest.
"If you find it so damn amusing you do it for me!" I growled, glaring up at him. I guess I failed at being threatening when the person I was trying to scare towered above me in height.
"Alright then" He said, giving me a smart aleck look. I watched as he swiped my card, and with one touch, the little green light flashed on. He turned to me and smirked. I scowled and snatched the card from him.
"You got lucky, Mori" I said, turning from him.
"A thank you would have been nice!" He called out after me, only to be ignored as I stomped away.
"You did that on purpose to make me look stupid, didn't you?" I hissed looking at my card, before chucking it into my pocket.
Ah, what a great start to a Monday morning.
I sighed, and leaned back on the wooden bench, pulling my sleeves over my hands. The church was cold as ever. I stared aimlessly up at the ornate ceiling as the priest rambled on about something I had lost interest in about ten minutes earlier. I drifted off for a while before feeling something nudge my elbow. I looked to my left from the corner of my eye to see a dark Asian girl prodding me with her hymn book.
"Rami...quit it." I whispered. Rami, or Ramica as her parents had named her, was one of the n00bs. One of the very few n00bs I had bothered to socialize with. She was quite dark skinned, and had deep chocolatey brown eyes. Her hair was a big black bush on her head. She never seemed to be able to keep it neat...actually I don't think she ever bothered.
"But it's hymn time!" She grinned, and I noticed that everyone had began standing up to the drone of the church organ. I dragged myself off the cold, wooden bench and peered lazily over the balcony. The poor naive lower schoolers in their blue and green uniforms. Life was simple for them. They only had SATs to worry about. How I wished I was back in Primary school, running rampant, without a care in the world.
I stared blankly at the open hymn book, as the rest of the school began to sing 'Shine Jesus Shine' glancing over at Rami who was also signing. She liked to sing. The only problem was that she sounded like a dead donkey releasing gas. My eyes trailed over to the opposite balcony. I caught a glimpse of my other friend Erika. She had been my friend since the very beginning. Back in the first year, when we were naive, bright eyed pre teens. What good days they were.
My gaze shifted a few rows across, where it was caught by a shock of peroxide blonde hair. I rolled my eyes, repulsed. He had dyed his hair. What was wrong with brown hair? Sure it was boring, but at least it looked normal. That was Fletcher. He used to be quite the pimp at first. He was good looking and all the girls wanted to hang around him, and he would give hugs to just about every girl he saw. Except me of course. But that was mainly because I ignored him. I didn't care for guys like him, all he did was annoy me. Just one look at him was enough to make me want to punch his lights out. Erika hated him too. She was paired up with him in ICT, and as soon as the lesson was over she complained to me about how annoying he was. We both took part in Fletcher-bashing after that. He was the only one there to bash really. All the other people we hated had left after year 11. The n00bs weren't hateworthy so far, so we left them alone. We would bash Mori, but that's more like friendly abuse, then actually hate bashing.
Peroxide head seemed to be fascinated with the floor at that moment. What a dipwad.
I then caught sight of Mori, who was gazing at the chandelier. I kinda wished I had something to toss at him. I wanted payback for this morning. Revenge.
And then the mind numbing singling stopped, and everyone sat back down. The headteacher came up to the mic to speak, and my brain automatically switched off again. I yawned as I fiddled absent mindedly with one of the ringlets in my hair. Stupid ringlets. They annoyed the crap out of me.
So, church was just an excuse for me to not pay attention. And Mondays were my least constructive days. I had studies nearly all day. All day every other week. Thursday was pretty lame too.
Let the week commence...*eye roll*