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f0ndu
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Exammin' - Days 1-3
I assumed that I had gotten a pretty good semester way back in that month we all hate- September. (Aka, the month of three hour nights and cafeteria coffee) Music in the morning, Religion after, because I happen to go to a cathloic school. Which I like.. I hear people complaining about that all the time. Anyway.
Then math and science in that order. Taadaa, one day. So when it's finally exam time, I'm a little confused as to where that happy-go-lucky little niner went when the books started coming out.

Day 1-

Music.

OHMYGOD, why did I agree to this again?

That one little thought is repeating over and over in my head like a bad techno song as I sit in the music room, my French Horn practically leaving an indent in my stomach. I'm shaking all over, and frankly suprised I haven't vibrated off the street now. Street? I meant seat. Yeah.

Why all this worry, you may ask? Well, I'm waiting for my turn to go play the theme for Germany on a instrument that's not exactly reliable for my whole class. Again, FML.

And I happen to be fourth on the class list.

And It so happens he's going by those numbers.

I start praying.

My friends are cheering for me as my knees manage not to give out as I grab my sheet music and get up to the front of the class. My friend on the clairanet said that it was easy, the stand blocks you from seeing anybody so you don't laugh.

Laugh? FFF- I hadn't thought about that until now.

Another thing to add to my worry. Part of me also wonders how she could tell about the not-seeing-people issue when playing? Freaking clairanets. She had also forgotten that I play the French Horn.. That requires so much more room then a clairanet..

Alright, go time. I manage to sit down without collapsing. The background music is starting up behind me- thank God I have rests in the beginning. I take a breath, and begin.

Okay, I think that was the right not- FFFF..

What happened to the tempo?

SPEED. NONONO! Slow?!

I manage to finish on the correct note, and my class bursts into laughter and applause.

Yep, that's why they call me Elephant.

Day 1= finito.



Day 2

Religion. Ok, This could go one of two ways-

1. Walk in, ready and knowing my stuff. Sit calmly down at a good desk. Finish with plenty of time left. Go have fun ticking off librarians.

2. Trip inside, smacking head on desk. Spend a few minutes recovering. Hobble over to any random desk, discovering a bruised leg. Find I've forgotten my textbook. And pencils. And anything I could write with. And my pants. Finish late. Piss off librarians.


What really happened was somewhere inbetween those two.

I walked in quite normally. Slipped on the floor. Got right back up, I don't think anyone noticed. There's a mad scramble for desks, and I flail around until there's only one left, the front desk. I sigh and sit down. The exam starts.

..Heeey... This is easy!

I finish early and leave without a care.

Library, here I come.

Day 2= accomplished!



Day 3.


Oh bloody hell, I hate my life.

Math.

Let's just say a certain person isin't doing so well in that forsaken class.

Not to mention the teacher is crazy, but that's another story.


I slide into the room, suprised that no one's there yet except my friends. Which just goes to show how cool they are. I may have just slightly panicked around until the teacher hopped in and the class filled. I watch her bring her little doll out and put him on the table.
Did I mention she's crazy? I think so.

It starts without me really wanting it to. I find myself whipping through the questions fairly easily, not even paying attention to the ones I don't.

..OHMYGOD WHY IS EVERYONE LEAVING, IT'S ONLY 9:30.

Ohwait. This ends at ten, right? Right.
It better.

I finish at around ten to ten (Haha! Beat that! and I wasn't dead last either.) And flee out of that room faster then you could say crazy lady with a doll.

No more math. My outlook on life is way better now.

Day 3= Done? I think I left some of my sanity back there as well.




And day four is to come..





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The Flying Queen
It's times when I find myself bracing my knees against the grey polyester seat in front of me that I wonder why I wanted a bus in the first place. My house isin't too far from my school..


Wait, the hell am I saying? It takes an hour to walk.



Thoughts like these usually run through my head as the bell rings in fourth period, and I yank my 300-pound bag on my back and fly out the door. My bus decides to leave without me when I'm late, and when it leaves about three minutes after the bell, well..

The uncomfortable weight slams into the small of my back as I'm practically using it's weight to throw myself down the hall- my friends just wave, knowing my issues already. Down the stairs, take a turn while trying to keep myself balanced,-God, why are people so slow?- and grab my lock for support as my shoes slide and my bag tries to counterbalance me. Time to fumble with the lock. Sometimes it will open without me putting in the full combo, other times it has to be perfect. Stupid lock. Stupid bus.

I'm in on the second try, throwing whatever extra weight I can get rid of into the top and fixing the picture of my horse that's always coming untaped. Coat on, lock closed.. Damn. Forgot my boots.
Get the lock on the first time, fling open the door, change shoes and off I go.

This hallway is even worse. It's the math hall, meaning all the older grades crowd around to talk to each other and have fun while the people who have to go places ( Like Moi) Have to butt in and squeeze through them. Having a friend with crutches or a wheelchair helps- People automatically make room. If they don't, you yell. It is for this reason that I have told my temporarily crippled friend to get an Airhorn. It always works.

I can't help but think about how I should have had my french horn in this damn hallway- the case makes it so huge that whoever doesn't move gets smacked in the knees. Then I'm out quick as a blur and leaving people in pain and confusion. Ah yes, good times.

But I can't get the horn today because I'll miss the stupid bus.

I'm through the double doors and debating pushing the people in front of me down the stairs until I realise that that would make me late. If I tried to jump over them I would end up snapping my back in two. This thought finishes as I hit the bottom floor running.

Another freaking hall full of slow people- these ones all loitering around shop class and such. Stay on your toes- straight, left, right, corner here?- No, right! I run down the last hall freely, skidding around the corner and running out the exit.

OHMYGODITSCOOOLD!!

You can do this.. back to the wind, shuffle sideways.. I hold the collar of my black long coat shut as I frantically try not to get snow in my eyes and get to the bus, with it's promise of heat.
Huffing, I make my way to the short bus with the green sign in it's window, waiting for me. The little lady who drives opens the door, then politly informs me that my name is no longer on the route.

...

Mother f-

Oh, waaaiit a minute. I explain that there had been a mix up with my bus, morning bus, before. They might have taken my name off the list because of that. It's fixed. She nodded and I climb over a bag, going to my usual spot in the second last seat of the bus and shuddering as I remember the days they tried to switch my bus. Waiting outside in cold, cold weather at 6:30 am- and then finding out the bus didn't exist. That had been a joy.

There's only about four kids on the bus including me, and no one really ever talks. The driver starts to move away from the school and I wonder if she ever feels the urge to rest her chin on the steering wheel that seems too big for her. I'm calm until I remember that this is friday.
Dear god.

I sneak a look at the road. Turning left at the stoplights- she's gonna go soon. That special strip of road could send a 9th grader even with the extra weight of a full bag into the ceiling. I brace my knees against the small seat in front of me and wait. The bus is meant for kindergardeners, and because of our size there's one to a seat. It's not a issue anyways because there's only about 5 kids total on the bus at all. We just have to watch to not get a concussion as we try to leave. Kindergardeners don't get as tall as us.

Another peek at the road- Oh dear god we're approaching. I scoot down lower in my seat. No one seems to notice. Another look and I close my eyes and start to pray- As if the road wasn't enough, she's got no cars near anywhere. The road is free.

The praying only intensifies as I feel her speed up. The road has uneven potholes on the right side. For a second I'm confused as to why nothing is happening until what sounds like a mix between a bump and we-just-hit-a-trashcan sends the kid next to me in the air. My knees are making indents in the seat as I hold myself down. The kid doesn't seem to see the danger of creating dents in the ceiling with his forehead. I swear that woman is having fun with this. I seem to be the only one noticing.

Bump, Bump, Are you sure we just didn't hit a trash can? A Bear?? I imagine the driver wanting to get into what I call the Flying Queen, something she could only pull off with her shortness- Hands planted firmly on either side of the wheel, eyes barely peeking over the rim of said wheel, shoulders hunched and elbows straight off to the sides.

Is she laughing at me?

A few agonising minutes pass and I sigh happily after she slows, taking the corner to my street. There's no more bumps here- my street happens to be normal. I pity the other people who live farther away, those potholes are a doozy. I then remember how I seemed to be the only one who noticed it, and wonder if that's because I've never smacked my noggin before.

She stops in front of my house, and with shaky legs I stand and glance at the seat to see if any belongings went flying. Apparently none. The kids say bye even though they don't know me. I thank the driver, and I freaking swear to you she had a special kind of glint in her eye.

I walk up my driveway, having survived another friday and thanking any and all Gods out there that it's only one road with potholes.

Then I remember that I have to go through this next friday, and I groan.


I want my bed...


{Reposted from http://nimblefooted.deviantart.com/ }



f0ndu
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