Chapter 2

A lil deeper into the story

 

 

Marco

School wasn’t something that I enjoyed. In fact, since my parents died, I decided to go more often to escape the terror of being home alone. My foster mom worked from 9 to 5 and by time I got home she did. She also worked a night-shift at a bar on certain days. School in particular was important to my parents; they wanted me to go, so I attended when I could.

My school, Wicker High, is a big game of social acceptance. There were at least several different groups of stereotypes in my grade; eleventh. There were of course, popular kids, jocks, nerds, theatre/drama, then there was me. I am my own group. I am the silent child. I do not go to lunch, I do not talk to anyone, and I do not get the best grades.

I stepped inside the board game and stared at the students I had said ‘see you later’ to last summer. It was the new school year and I was hoping to start over. That could not happen. I watched as my old friends I used to joke around with and talk to avoided me. A couple came up to me and said that they were sorry for my loss. I nodded and walked into my designated class I had to go to in order to get my new schedule. Wishing that the new school year was already over.

 

 

Caitlyn

I liked school. I liked to read and write poetry, so I passed all my English classes easily. I didn’t like school for two reasons; one, I wished everyone knew that I was gay. I wanted to be with girls and have relationships with them, but the horror of them finding out came across my mind. I wanted to share my secrets with everyone, because everyone acted as if they knew me but they didn’t. Two; I hated waking up every morning. I know its crazy but I hated it.

As I walked in through the fabulous metal detectors and the security guards checking our book bags I felt as if I was out of my mind. There was a girl that I have never seen before staring at me. I smiled at her and walked past flicking my hair out of my eye. I thought she was gorgeous, oh I wish everyone knew I was gay! I wished that school was already over.

 

 

 

Allie

I awoke in the morning dizzy. My head hurt as I got dressed for school. Sharon ran down into my room and took my hairbrush out of my hand as I started to brush my hair down.

“Sharon!” I screamed snatching the brush away.

“Daddy!” She yelled. I stared and handed her the brush back. I looked through my drawer for a comb and failed. I took my hair and used my fingers to comb it down.

School was amazing. I had many friends and a lot of boyfriends or guys chasing after me. I loved going to school. Six hours away from Darnell and my mother, occasionally eight, with activities and sports.

I walked into school with the brightest smile and my makeup was just right. Three boys hugged me as I walked in and a group of girls grimaced at me. I rolled my eyes and kept forward to my class designated for me to get my new schedule. I dreaded school ending. I wanted to stay there forever!

 

Michael

            School was straight; I hardly went since I was fourteen. No one pushed me to go; no one pushed me to stop doing drugs so I didn’t do it. I decided to go to school more often this year.

            My dad woke me with a crash into my door. Apparently the party he went to the night before didn’t stop ‘til six in the morning. I helped him into his bed and got dressed for school.

            As I stepped in Wicker I felt as if I had gone back in time. I hadn’t really been there in almost a year since my sister left me with my parents. Old teachers passed by me and did a double-take or blinked. I stared as kids stared at me. I had many friends when it started in ninth grade, but now in eleventh no one talked to me. I went to the office to re-enroll myself by a letter I wrote and my father’s forged signature on it. They handed me a slip to go to some class to get schedules. I did and didn’t want school to end at all. I just wanted to make someone notice that I am a good person; I just wished they would take the time to believe me, to believe that I could graduate and become an accomplished person.