Firsts thing first, exams are boring. I mean like bang your head on a wall boring. When am I going to need to find the radius of a circle inside a square inside a triangle Never I am never going to need yet they insist that in life these are the things we need. Not how to do taxes or buy a house, not even what the hell tax's are but apparently those things aren't important enough to teach

Back to my point exams are boring, the old sports hall was the most unappealing thing to look at in the world. Aged basketball hopes clung to wall for dear life, the lines on the floor half removed from all the running they forced you to do, row after row of exam tables that were not balanced and moved every 5 seconds and the invigilator. They were the worst. Teachers who had nothing better to do than stand over your shoulder and watch you write what you didn't know. This was the only part of the original school that was still standing; the rest had all been updated to fit the 'higher class' image. The sports halls was were Chadwick held all exams, just incase you tried to find the slightest happiness in them WHAM no happiness here. Memories of forced PE flooded back to me, the bleep test. Where it's okay for teachers and peers to watch you fail miserable and then proceed to talk about it for the rest of the week.

Looking around the hall you could practically taste the A* form Kelly Smith 2 seats in front and smell the F from Ted Annes who didn't even bother to bring a book to an English exam. How these people managed to spell their own name surprised me.

A knock sounded at the door to the hall, you could see everyone stop writing and look up in the hope they were telling everyone that the school was burning down and all exams were cancelled. No such luck came. A man maybe 30 walked in, eyes on Mr Shacks, never stopping till he walked half way across the hall to talk to him. They proceeded to walk back to the invigilator desk and look at something. It was the most uneventful thing ever, and I had seen some uneventful things in my short life. Mr Shacks was looking down at something a frown on his face, the frown wasn't unusual. He leant to back to the man who came in and whispered something. I put my head back down trying to focus on The Women In Black question, How is motherhood displayed in the text?

I didn't have a clue and just hoped that if I started to write inspiration would hit me. Again no such luck.

I sighed and went back to starring around the hall, The man (who was apparently still here) began to walk down the aisle. Everyones heads snapped up, this had never happened before, nothing was to interrupt exams at Chadwick. He kept looking at table number, obviously looking for someone. Now this could get interesting

He reminded me of one of those models you see, with his peacock coat and scarf. People heads falling back to their work as he walked by then turning around to stare at his back.

I watched with interest as he slowed down and finally stop next to my desk, up-close wasn't such a male model. His eyes met mine and he gestured with his hand to follow him.