George's English Journal

The sunlight still burns your eyes as you walk towards the frosty playground. Then you see it, the LNS gargoyle standing in front of the gate ready to attack you. Your heart sinks as you know they are going to find some fault in your uniform. You make it through with no item apart from your skinny blazer protecting you from frost’s evil breath. The battle is not over. In the playground it is a war zone. You hear the screams of younger years as if they were soldiers dying at war. Then you see the ball flying towards you everyone sctatters as the active grande goes off.  If you make it through the playground unharmed you now have to face the mob mentality of the corridors. The corridors are a strange place if you are too week a trip down the stairs is awaiting you. Too strong and be prepared to be sized up by the world. You make it to your lesson, the sounds of laughter and chit chat die out as the day begins. You sit there still dead to the world. Slowly you begin to come to life and the bitter scent of hard work is like the thought of going over the trenches. The monotonous tone of your teacher’s voice drags you straight back to realisation with a bang. Tick……Tock……Tick ……Tock the sound echos in your head but the lesson never seems to end. Eventually the sound you have been waiting for comes.Its like finding a lucky penny, your heart races and you feel all fuzzy inside. Until the realization of the situation becomes clear. Its only period two and you have to run the whole sequence again as if your life is on repeat.

After school at around 6:30 you step out of you forced entrapment of an extra lesson and it is like the aftermath of a war. The corridors are now disserted and have an uneasy atmosphere to them. The silence is deafening and the still air blocks your way like a brick wall. You take every step with precision prying not to get spotted by the enemy. Capture at this point would be the end of the world. From a distance classroom you can hear the muffled noise of a teacher’s music. You will never guess what they listen to, it is torture to your ears. your heart goes out to what ever poor soul the have hostage. As you hurry to avoid the pain, your eyes focus on the tatty paint job. The winding staircase is just one more cruel joke the school has to play on you. Your legs ache and your head hurts as you try and work out if the narrow walls are caving in on you, or if you just have cabin fever for being here too long. The stench of stale B.O is worst than mustard gas, it attacks your nostrils and makes your eyes water. Suddenly your tears of pain become tears of joy as you see the school gate glistening like the golden gates of heaven. Your heart sinks and it feels like you’ve swallowed a stone, when you realize the gate is locked and you have not yet escaped this war zone they call school. Panic sets in, surely there must be a way out. You turn with disbelieve as you know the only way out is back through enemy grounds. You run through no mans land as fast as you can but its too late. The cold hand of the dictatorship leader grabs your shoulder. The proper-gander of his parties aims hits you hard, desperately trying to make you stay longer.  God is looking out for you as a more vounrable student passes by. Now is your chance as his attention is else were you make your final dash for freedom. you make it the fresh air is embracing as you know you are free.