Okay, so this chapter hasn't got much Middle Earth in it, buuut its more of a filler chapter... next chapter i PROMISE there will be more lotr! Wow i said chapter a lot there!

Sitting in the death chair outside Mrs Beever's office, I awaited my terrible fate.

God. Now I was even talking in middle-earth, ye olde English type words. If I started talking like this during class I would be the laughing stock of my form!

I already had completely embarrassed myself during Geography!

We were learning about the east, and at the end Mrs Coyle had set us a fun 'quiz', where she went round the room asking us each a question which we had to answer correctly before being able to go.

For once, the question that she asked me I actually knew! It was a question about the east. I knew she expected me to get it all wrong, I could see it all over her face. A slight smirk was playing on her face... well Mrs Coyle, I ACTUALLY know this one! With a triumphant smile on my face, I said confidently, "MIDDLE EARTH!"

My geography teacher just looked at me then, and the laughs of the background class was almost muted in my mind, by that look she just gave me. A look of contempt, and satisfaction. Great.

The answer was actually meant to be middle east... but hey...

I was brought back to the normal world by Mr Connell, with a sympathetic smile on his face, inviting me into the headteachers office.

I had only ever been here once before, and it was a truly AMAZING office compared to the rest of our school.

The walls were painted creamy white, and two red sofa's in the middle of the room facing each other with a small mahogany table sandwiched between them. The carpet was spotlessly clean,and was cream to match the walls. Why did so many people like the colour cream!? A few posters were scattered on the walls, claiming how great our school was, (HA!) with a couple of certificate awards thrown in to the mix. Mrs Beever's desk was in the left corner of the room, and it was a monster of a desk.

It was one of those desks which was all drawers and little compartments, probably used to store the dead bodies of past students! It was about waist height, but the top of it looked the size of about twelve of our pathetic little desks.

And behind the desk sat Mrs Beever, on a red leather armchair to match the sofas. She gestured towards the small wooden chair on the other side of the desk.

I sat down, and the chair groaned (and no, I'm not that fat, it was just a REALLY old chair.)

"Lucy, this is not the first time I have seen you in here,"

Mrs Beever looked sadly over the desk, * Gasp * A DIFFERENT FACE

My thoughts must have shown on my face as Mrs Beever looked angrily at me.

"This is not a laughing matter, here at St. Mary's grammar we do not tolerate this kind of behaviour..." She then proceeded into a long speech.

And yes, I go to a catholic girls grammar school. It sucks and it really wasn't my choice. My parents just told me I was going, said it would be 'better for my future'.

I hate going here, all the other schools seem to think we're a private school (which we're not!) because of our uniform (red, yellow and blue stripy, *shudder) and just give us the evils on the way to school. Or shout abuse at us on the streets, one girl got beat up on the way home after being called a 'stuck up posh girl'. To be honest, most of them are! They all go to Australia in the half terms, and get private coaches to school! I am lucky to go to Wales in the summer holidays, and walk to school everyday. I have the sense to hide my blazer in my bag and wear a coat!

"...and with that I believe that you will change your ways."

Shit. I hadn't been listening to any of that.

"I will" I said, In my BEST little sorry girls voice, after being in various detentions, I had got good at these

"I will, WHAT." Mrs Beever demanded. Obviously not good enough for our headteacher.

I sighed, "I will, Mrs Beever."

Looking smug, then quickly covering it up with a superior face, she waved me away, claiming she had 'More important things to do then deal with children like me.'

Ugh, I AM NOT A CHILD. I seethed as I went out, biting my lip furiously to stop myself from turning around and throwing that little mahogany table at her superiority.

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