School throughout the day was no better then any other day, if anything worse. It was what I would want to call boring, but nothing is ever really boring to me. I could sit there for hours just thinking. Heath was my first period class and I walked exactly to it as soon as I got there, head down. I never walk with my head up because I don't like looking at people, they are all so annoying. I sat down first one in class and started thinking about Joey, the boy I liked. Nothing ever good happens in my life so I just figured not at all to get my hopes up, it isn't even worth mentioning.
The final bell rang and kids started parting to class. The teacher, Mr. Damen, started writing bones down on the white board telling us to do the same.
"All right class can anybody tell me what your collar bone is"? Nobody in the class raises their hand. To be expected, we had a class of fifteen and nobody participated. There were posters all around the room some showing the heath concerns of smoking, drugs, and alcohol, and others showing pregnancy. I knew the answer but, when didn't I?
"Clavicle" I say quietly without raising my hand.
"Correct", the teacher says and begins writing it on the board next to collar bone.
I began to zone out, I guess head in the clouds but nothing mattered any more. I was thinking about life, the over all picture of it; people being jerks, selfish, and wanting credit for everything they did. I hate it here, and I hate all of them. I was coughing on and off, but didn't think anything of it, it was probably from smoking. Two other girls in the classroom were also coughing, the teachers assistant and Mary Huddle.
" Well according to the coughing in here it looks like two people in here have the common flu virus",Mr. Damen said. But three of us are coughing? I asked myself, and then I realized he is a health teacher he probably can tell the difference. For the rest of the class period I tried as hard as I could not to cough, and failed like at everything I have ever tried to accomplish.
I keep telling myself I am just being whinny, but I haven't had worse conditions like children in Africa so I don't know what it would be like, I only see everybody else happy. The bell went off and class was over but of course not without a list of 20 bones we had to memorize, and I headed my way to science.
Science wasn't fun; don't get me wrong I love science but the teacher hated me and I was now failing the class. When I got older I wanted to become a forensic scientist because I don't think so many people should get away with murder.
She didn't even hate me for a good reason either. I had bent her blind opening the window; it was a complete accident. She started yelling at me about how they cost $100 and they were brand new. I didn't even break the blind I bent it and it was easily bent back into place. But now I am just the screw off kid in that class who is automatically assumed for doing every thing bad, from the stolen sharpies and missing rulers, to the drawing in the books and on the table.