What you are about to read is the first chapter of a book that never got passed the first paragraph of the second chapter. I wrote this very late at night and while being very bored. I must say the inspirations ( and once you know them, they will become very apparent as you read it) is the movie The Shawshank Redemption, Catcher in the Rye, the video game Bully, and a handful of my personal High School experiences.
I was sent to New England's Regional Public High-school, a place who's alumni consisted of Lawyers, Politicians, and cops, total scum, and who had a reputation of having a football team who's every game since 1998 ended in the team being disqualified for inciting riots, in the fall of 2008 because my parents didn't believe in private schools. The School was more like a boarding school, they had they're own tiny little rooms for the students who wanted to stay overnight, or the few students that had paid extra money to have they're own room. I was one of them, the school was a long way away from home and my parents were having a bad time getting along so they decided that it would be best for me if I stayed at school full time. I didn't mind, it meant I could sleep until school started which meant I could sleep until school started which would give me about at least an hour more of sleep. What I did mind was being sent at that damn school in the first place. The school was thick with kids who came out of foster families and juvenile correction services.
I arrived at the school with my bags in hand, ready for the worst, my parents where so pre-occupied that I had to take the bus there. Walking through the gates I was already being harassed by the regulars, called names like "fresh fish" and "jailbait". I could feel my buttocks clenching together,as to keep the invading forces of another gentleman's throbbing manhood from prodding me with all nine inches of vanquishing glory for him and horrible painful, shame for me. I hurried the hell out of the front yard to the dorm, which surely had seen better days, as not a single portrait had been spared the fate of being defaced, the crimson red wallpaper torn up, gratifies covered the walls and the pungent aroma of urine filled my nostrils. The gratifies in question described unprintable acts of deviance. My room was on the third floor, where the fall would be high enough to break my legs, but not enough to kill me. My door number was 101, which makes no damn sense since it was the third floor and they were 80 rooms in total. Arriving at my room I noticed that a strip of duct-tape reading "420" was stuck underneath the door number, I immediately recognized this as a bad sign. Opening the door resulting in myself being swarmed by a cloud of thick grey smoke. I grasped for breath, rolling on the floor like I was on fire choking myself with this sweet, intoxicating smoke. After a few moments the smoke had made it's way to the hallway and I was free to enter my room. Inside the room was a beat up old mattress on a bed made up of four concrete blocks and a plank of plywood covered in a pillow consisting of a rolled up old Grateful Dead T-shirt and a Led Zeppelin Stairway to Heaven towel as a blanket. The wall was plastered with one of those Pink Floyd posters with all those naked chicks and a graffiti which read "Doobie Hauser was here". A mini fridge was full of cold lasagna and Mountain Dew cans. Under the bed was a box of old Playboy and Hustler magazines and a bag of weed. A dirty window was hidden behind a backlight poster of a black panther. The desk was littered with Red Bull cans and a dictionary with half the pages torn out. Lastly there was a little TV tuned in to the Cartoon Network. I decided that going out and exploring the quad would probably end in me losing my virginity, for the worst, so I decided to stay in and watch the Cartoon Network and finish a half eaten bag of moldy Cheetos I found laying on the ground.
I awoke, fully dressed, because there was no way in hell that my skin would come in contact with that dirty mattress and figured that I couldn't lock myself up in this room forever. So I put all my valuable items in the rolled up Grateful Dead T-shirt, locked up the door and went off exploring the school. The first thing I did was leave the dorm. Once outside I finally had a breath of fresh air it was still pretty early, around 9 a.m. so the surroundings were empty. The air was crisp and fresh, like a cold autumn morning, even tho it was still August. I walked around the quad, it looked pitiful. Toilet paper covered the trees and beer bottles littered the ground. A billboard in the middle announced upcoming theater plays on poorly xeroxed flyers, along with the theater plays was an announcement for a Led Zeppelin tribute band named Let's Zep, pretty clever actually.
"Beautiful morning isn't it?"
I damn well nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned to see a middle aged man
wearing a brownish-grey suit who reeked of after shave and tobacco. He had
a five-o'-clock shadow, wrinkles, and a stern look on his face.
“Yes, lovely” I managed to say
“I know what you're up to boy, and I don't like it. I don't want to see you cause
any trouble now you hear?”
“Yes sir”
And with that the man turned around and entered the building, locking the door after him. I guess he was the principle or something. I wonder if he greets everyone like that.
