Fish BowlMature

4 completely out of place kids meet up in the strangest possible setting ....the detention room. There is more to them that meets the eye.

"It's so strange, the roads are old, but there is always something new to see on these old roads. It's like we're a school of fish in a giant fish bowl, swimming round and round in the same damn place, but still never knowing what to expect on the next turn.

Can anyone hear me?
Does anyone understand me?
Can you find me?
No

No one has for ages. It’s been the same for years. Like we're swimming around a fish bowl, getting absolutely nowhere.
But things have known to unexpectedly change. They always do when you least expect it to.
As I said, the same roads, just new things.

I've never understood it. When everything is just the same, why is everything...so different?"

The teacher clapped her hands after the brilliant little "wonder boy" of our class, class "genius" (more like genuine ass), finished reading out his piece, giving us a small taste of his excellence in creative writing. The piece it's self was not the best, but considering the topic, is was deeper than your average high schooler could go. The topic was, "My Fish Bowl".  Of course he claimed to have hand wrote it, and of course...that wasn't true. How did I know this? Well, let’s start with a story, shall we?

Three years ago, a kid decided to help out kids who could not beat a monkey (without arms) at writing. So he made a website "essay_sailor.com", on which he would get a request for an essay and basically write it for them. That boy is me. So those were my, mediocre school boy words, he was gloating on about. I just wanted to punch him hard...in the head. But I couldn't, no, I shouldn't. I would never hurt anyone. Ever.

 

The End

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