Risen From The CryptMature

This is just another normal school day for Alex, until a sudden attack heralds the start of a desperate struggle for survival against the undead...

The French classroom wasn't exactly welcoming. The overall atmosphere was like standing in a unfinished pre-fab in Soviet Russia, all drab grey and slighty damp at the edges. The harsh carpet underfoot was finished in jet-black, giving the amusing feel of being in a 1920's film. I coughed rather loudly, not because I had nearly died of sheer monotony, but because interest had dropped in the class. The predominantly female class chattered away, unaware of my presence. The cough recaptured their attention. I was about to start making France sound GOOD. Help me God. "As I was saying, France has many great exports to boast abou-"

The bell for interval went off, and out stampeded the class. I felt utterly stupid, now conducting to a class of one. The teacher. And, shortly after that, he fled too. I picked my jacket and bag from my desk and left, walking down the corridor to the benches alone. I felt utterly bewildered. My last French presentation had them in stitches - why not this one too? I decided to leave this important question until later, as Duncan had just arrived on the scene. He seemed cheerful. "So, how'd your speech go?" He asked lightly. My tone, on the other hand, was downright depressing, "Bloody awful. Nobody listened to me."His face contorted into a mix of digust and anger, "Pffft, never mind them, they're arseholes. Come on, let's sit."

We took a seat and started to launch into a chat about what, since two days ago, has been Duncan's addiction - GUIIITARRR HEERROOO!!! (and yes, that is how he always says it) and, by heck, it's getting rather boring. In my Facebook feed, in my Twitter feed, in my SMS inbox - I will never evade the inevitable boasting that he can play a guitar (pretty badly, but still) and I can't. At least it lightened the dull, grey room... I think. Mercifully, his endless praise of Guitar Hero was ended as another friend of mine, Julie, smashed through his metaphorical bubble with ease. She sat down on our bench and, almost instantly, whipped out her phone - a HTC Wildfire, which she bought, unbeknown that I also owned one. Which means she leaches help off me. So now began Round 2, while Duncan fumed about Julie bursting his bubble.

However, before she could begin her discussion about it, the bell rung for third period, and me and Duncan made a hasty retreat for Physics, with my ears on fire and my ego firmly dented. Duncan pointed at my shoe, and said, "Erm, you've got red on your shoe." I continued steadfast, only pausing to mutter, "For God sake, what the hell is that?" It would probably just be some juice or something.

The End

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