A Day in Class

The bell rings and the inception of this hell begins. The clock is an a*****e who constantly stares at me saying, “ cant go faster.” The social group yawns like zombies marching into class,pretending like they did fun s**t on a f*****g sunday. Late partying and over nighter smoke sessions. These fuckers were as active as my dead cat. They talk like they actually have something to say but you might as well fill their mouths with sand and let that replace their words. Wouldn't make a damn difference. My teacher writes on the board todays lesson . How many times has he done this? Write mathematical problems that us highly potential students would forget before he even started. He most likely knew this. Ill never understand why the rate of suicide doesn't fall heavily on high school teachers. Maybe they think they are actually making a difference in us. The rising generation. What a fucked up notion. If I was one of them I would pull the Goddamn trigger in class and that would make a bigger impact. Or maybe they thought they'll get lucky and f**k some minor looking for extra credit. Thats more plausible.
My seat is imprinted with an a*s and I can only think of how many other s**t heads sat where I do. Going through the same motions of living the american dream. The teacher turns trying to seat the rest of the class. I just want to yell to him to stop pretending like he gives a s**t. Mostly everyone sits with their notepads ready, except for a few 'swagger boasting pricks' trying to get in a few good flirts and curving their bodies trying to hide their boners. Sex is more pursued than mathematical equations, and that just kills the school's chances at a yearly award for most monotonous school. Words come of Mr. Gamin's mouth and I cant help but just see the empty air come out of his mouth, which was more interesting than anything his a*s would say. I hold my notebook and pencil ready. Trying to fit in the crowd so he wouldn't call me out, but this was my stop. To hell with him if I was actually gonna waist the page with incomprehensible words and numbers. I look to the clock and it tells me,” ignoring me might work.”
A student says something I cant bring myself to hear and it makes a few laugh including the teacher. Was that sincere, or you aiming to take her V-card? About twenty percent of the class is on their phone. Facebook or text. Thats all these idiots could ever manage to work. I think to myself why do I criticize so much? Envy, jealousy, or just being bitter? I don't give a f**k.
Class goes on the same. Math, laughter, math, assignment, and I look to the clock,”what the f**k you're looking at? I just got started.” Math, math, math, lame joke, pity laugh, math, math, math, look at the clock and it says,”whats that ticking sound? Its f*****g slow.”
The girl of my dreams keeps me occupied for a bit. Looking at her helps me push things away. But then she talks and it all comes back.  Wonder if she notices when I stare at her? Even if she does what then? She's probably too busy with herself to give it any thought. Regardless, I'm still going to jerk off to her at some point. Wonder who she's used to get off? She 's probably used me. Masturbation doesn't exactly leave much room for thought control so I'm sure I slipped in on those dirty thoughts. Ill admit I even used the cow two seats in front of me. Couldn't help it.  
The class looks to me. What the f**k are they staring at?
“Phil?” looks like the dick caught me. “Would you mind coming up here and demonstrating your math skills for us?” I give a look to the class that rams dumb a*s in their faces. At the board, I can only say “i don't know.”
Here we go
Mindless guidance and dirty looks, for the next two minutes. “is this right class?” Mr. Gamin asks. It is right. He basically gave me the answer. Way to stay committed to the oath of teaching. I sit back down and the class is quite. Moments like these makes teenagers seem forty. He starts handing some paper out and I look to the clock and it says, “10....9...8....7....6...5...4...3...2...1....just f*****g with you.” I respond with my hand pointing below my jaw ,making a gunshot sound.

Reviews

[Yheela]

Being a high school teacher myself I must say: I really enjoyed your story.
It's funny how teenagers seem to be so alike, all over the world. This is what I hear whispered in class, in the hallways, in the eyes of those pretending to listen to what I say.
If you payed some attention to language, wrote "I'll" instead of "Ill", your text would benefit from the clean up.
The stream of consciousness style you use is very good, one of the things I like best about the text.

[Mr. Lou]

thanks i know i make many mistakes in my text, guess I'm just lazy. but I'll work on it.

[Yheela]

lazy isn't always bad