But that didn't bother me to much; lunch is after third period.
After lunch, I waited by the doors to locker hall (they started shutting them during lunch).
The doors opened the moment the bell rang.
Some freak huge ninth graders that probably got held back several years started pushing seventh graders and small eighth graders (like me) out of the way to get into the hall faster. Actually, they where just pushing everyone. And everyone started stomping on my poor sandal covered, ill protected feet. After getting stomped on several times, someone just chucked me out of the way. I was shoved into a closed door.
The moment that kid chucked me there, another kid on the other side of the door tried to jam it open into my gut. He did that four times until I somehow managed to leave that cursed place. I grabbed my books and, despite my vow never to do it, I bolted for science.
It was in vain.
The second I placed my smashed foot into my science class, the late bell rung.
Oops. To the tracking office I go.
Luckily the second 'punishment' was to call your parents, so I just decided to call my roommate and have her smuggle me out of there.
No.
The trackers were the ones that called, and they had you read a message with heavy supervision.
I felt like I was being held hostage.
After lunch, I waited by the doors to locker hall (they started shutting them during lunch).
The doors opened the moment the bell rang.
Some freak huge ninth graders that probably got held back several years started pushing seventh graders and small eighth graders (like me) out of the way to get into the hall faster. Actually, they where just pushing everyone. And everyone started stomping on my poor sandal covered, ill protected feet. After getting stomped on several times, someone just chucked me out of the way. I was shoved into a closed door.
The moment that kid chucked me there, another kid on the other side of the door tried to jam it open into my gut. He did that four times until I somehow managed to leave that cursed place. I grabbed my books and, despite my vow never to do it, I bolted for science.
It was in vain.
The second I placed my smashed foot into my science class, the late bell rung.
Oops. To the tracking office I go.
Luckily the second 'punishment' was to call your parents, so I just decided to call my roommate and have her smuggle me out of there.
No.
The trackers were the ones that called, and they had you read a message with heavy supervision.
I felt like I was being held hostage.
