Chronicles of somebody: Chronicle One
Starting back to about 5 years ago, my first year of high school was certainly an eye-opener to say the least. Filled with a fuck-load of more surprises than I could handle, the 13th year of my existence would prove to be a force to be reckoned with.
I came from a catholic primary school in Scarborough, so I suppose all the praying was worth not even two shits when going into a public school, ironically enough the name of this particular institute was Churchlands.
I went there without many friends to follow me. At the time it seemed pretty tough and was even half-tempted to transfer to the catholic high-school next door, but luckily enough I met a kid named Neil.
Nothing really special about the guy, he was asian but not particularly smart nor dumb, he kinda set the average I suppose, that's about as much I can say in terms of his description, but thinking about it I would've probably left if it weren't for him, we remain good friends to this day.
By the third day I had pretty much sussed out how things where in terms of social status or reputation, and I had prepared myself to also be given a number on the social ladder, but I suppose at the time I was still a kid, so I didn't really find it a major concern.
You could pick out the social groups though, the clashing groups for majority of the population at the school were the popular people, I.e sporty rebellious guys and the pretty girls who decided that the skirts weren't short enough. The other group was pretty much composed of just people who didn't associate themselves to a particular group but ironically became a group because of the hill located behind the library in which every morning, recess and lunch they would flock to.
I suppose I belonged to this neutral group and gladly accepted it as my social stance at the school. The only stance or group that I believed to not be full of complete fuck-wits, sure the neutral was composed of a few but with a school as large as this, inevitably it had to happen.
Winter, sitting on a bench being sheltered by the rain and waiting for the line at the canteen to subside. I didn't find much logic in waiting in that godforsaken line, even if you had a place and progressed, people would always cut and by the end the thing you wanted to eat would be sold and an appropriate "fuck." would be uttered quietly under your breath.
I brought my own lunch to eat mostly, the canteen deserts is what I wanted, always had stock and the selection wasn't too vast but it tasted good either way.
After scavenging what I could I retreated back to the hill. If anyone can relate I'm sure they could when I say that there are some real idiots out there who don't know how to intimidate someone for money.
"Oi cunt money ." the kid said.
I looked at him blankly, looked behind me to see if he was referring to anyone else, and then kept walking. The boy swore loudly in vain only to be sent to the office by a teacher, a creative way to get sent home...maybe not the smartest.