“So this year will be filled with experiments that require you to get up and move. It may require some basic knowledge of algebra, but in general it should be a rather difficult course!” he says with that sarcastic tone that too many teachers use, but not enough students pick up on.
Hah, another ridiculously easy course that people glorify the exceeded difficulty of just to try and scare younger classes.
“But first off, we need to get to know each other, or do you all just want to chit chat freely?”
Please let us just chit chat, god forbid I have to talk to any of these abysmally ungifted people.
I should probably mention, though i am nice to everyone, and am kind to everyone that deserves it; i still think everyone else is as smart as a wet napkin. It isn’t anything personal; i just haven’t been proven incorrect. I don’t just mean academically, that doesn’t measure intelligence, I mean in life. Ignorance and Arrogance. That’s all i see when i look at people.
The class starts breaking off into chatter anyway as if the teacher didn’t even ask a question to being with. As Mr. Bill looks around expecting a response either one way or another, I just keep staring ahead giving him my full attention, as if to say, I know what he’s thinking, and I completely agree with what is going on inside there. This class…is full of idiots. The representatives of my generation, they make me hang my head in shame.
The bell rings, time to move on to the next class (because ya know, that’s kind of how school works).
Of course, on the other side of the damn school.
I slowly make my way through the crowds of students hardly trying to actually get to their respective classes. The mismatched tiles of white and blue make way underneath my feet, seemingly blazing fast, but i am slowly meandering through the hall. Packs of Neanderthals blocking the entire hallway talking about random bullshit that they haven’t the slightest clue as to what it really is.
Morons, get the hell out of my way please.
The bell rings and the hallways finally clear out so i can find my next class. Only 5 minutes late, oh well. The eyes of the other students look at me expectantly, probably expecting me to acknowledge all of them seeing as how i know everyone by name, and know who their friends are and what clique they seem to always find their niche in. I casually wave to the entire class, they all do their own small greeting, a smile and nod mostly, and then they turn back to what they were doing. I find a seat, sadly right in the front row. The teacher stares at me, trying to figure something out, seemingly a little perturbed that she had to wait on me to start her class.
“Welcome to English 12.” Says Ms. Tippalton, almost directly to me, as if I interrupted the first time she said this, the new young English teacher continues, “you may not write very well, or enjoy it, but I hope that throughout this year, I can change that!”
Oh god, one of those.
“But only if you put in the effort, otherwise, fuck off.”
Then again, maybe not.
I laugh to myself, only because I’m sure some of the students behind me just shit their pants. Oh lord, she just used the F word, what are we to do! It’s not like they don’t abuse it and diminish it every chance they get.
“Today, being the first day and all, i want to start to get to know you. For the next 30 minutes write me, silently, anything. Anything at all. Hopes dreams, loves, secrets, events, numbers, anything. It will not leave this room. I will not talk about what you write to anyone outside of this room, unless you give me permission first. Okay, Begin!” she says with a knowing smile, like she just made the entire room trust her.
I like her.