A BAD DAY

by Clint

My alarm beeped… 6:25 AM. “Great.” I thought, “Five minutes until my bus comes.” I hopped out of bed and jumped into the first clothes I could get my hands on, which happened to be the same ones that I wore yesterday. Oh well.

I grabbed my books and my stuff, and I started running to the bus stop, which happened to be about three blocks away. I ran as fast as I could, because I could just barely see the yellow blur slowly moving to pick up its daily cattle. The bus was finished picking up the students at my bus stop, so I had to chase the bus to its next stop. I had to run all the way down the next three blocks right behind the bus, trying to catch up with it. All this time, my so called “friends” in the bus were laughing their heads off, as they threw pieces of paper, pencils, and their school books at me, shouting, “Loser, loser.” I only got a bloody nose from somebody’s science book. I’ll live.

I finally caught up to the bus. It was completely full, so I tried sitting in the aisle. I felt several sharp jabs, turned around, and received a kick in the face. That hurt a little bit, so I decided that it would be best for me to sit on the steps right by the bus’s door. The bus driver opened the door and swerved, trying to throw me out, shouting, “Loser, loser,” but I grabbed hold of the dashboard and managed to keep from being run over by the oncoming cars. I guess you know by now that my bus driver hates me a little bit.

School.

First of all, let me describe my school…. I go to Muddville High School. The school has just about the worst teachers, and the worst principal that you can have, Dr. Cratchit. (Yes, he’s a doctor… I think that he majored in child abuse or some similar subject.) This is the type of a principal that would cause you to wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, because you had a dream that your parents died, you were put into an orphanage, and he adopted you. This is how horrible he is. He is the most sadistic, child-hating man (if you can call him human) that I have ever known. He stands about 5’3”, and has red hair, which everybody is completely sure is a toupee.. This is one of the most discussed topics at school, because everybody SAYS that it is a toupee, but nobody KNOWS. So that’s my principal, now for the school day…

I got there, and immediately I was called up to the office. It seems that somebody “found” a lost math book of mine, and returned it to the office… It must have been one of my enemies, because everybody knows that Dr. Cratchit hates people losing their books… I was screamed at, I was yelled at, and I was practically dead by the time that Dr. Cratchit was finished lecturing me on things like “responsibility” and “citizenship” and “insubordinance.” I wish I could see Dr. Cratchit safety-pinned to a barbed wire fence with midgets poking him to death with toothpicks. That would be a good laugh.

So after going through the lecture, which many kids at my school call “The Cratchit-Crotch-Cracker,” I went on my merry way to first period, ENGLISH.

Of course, there was a big test today, and nobody bothered telling me about it… I was last to finish, and the teacher said to me, “I’m not going to bother grading your paper… You got a 40%, ok?”

“Sure,” I mumbled, not really caring since life sucks at school anyway, and all you have to do is get through it.

Second period, ALGEBRA I… This is the third time that I had to take this subject, since I failed it last year and at summer school. I figure that “the third time’s the charm.” At least I hope so. I got through listening about the quadratic formula, and the Pythagorean Theorem, and imaginary numbers… It was a bitch.

Third period, SHOP… This is the best class, since we were done with our projects, and all we had to do was fool around by taking scraps of wood and chunks of plastic and bending them, melting them, sawing them, and mutilating them any possible way that we could. It was fun, until I bent, mutilated, melted, and sawed my left hand. The clinic was nice. The bandage and alcohol only hurt a little.

Fourth period, good ol’ ESPANOL.

“No hablo espanol,” was mostly what I had said during class, except for the occasional “Si” or “No.” I forgot my homework, got back two tests (an F and a D-), and couldn’t take today’s test because I didn’t have a pencil or paper, and nobody would lend me one. I complained to my spanish teacher, Srta. Blakwitch, that it wasn’t fair.

All my spanish teacher would say was, “Tough shit, loser.”

Fifth period, PE.

I went through the usual routine. Dressing out, five minutes, Taking roll, five minutes. Warmup, five minutes. Track lap, five minutes, Getting equipment organized, five minutes. Picking teams, five minutes. Participation (the actual P.E.), five minutes. Showers and dressing, five minutes. Hence the phrase, “PE SUCKS.”

Lunch. Aside from waiting 10 minutes out of the 25 minute lunch period, everything at lunch was ok except for the fact that somebody tripped me, and I fell down. The entire cafeteria laughed at me and threw their food at me, yelling, “Loser, loser,” so I got a little stain on my shirt and pants.

Sixth period, CIVICS. Pure boredom.

We listened all about the electoral college, but I was kind of daydreaming about summer vacation, so I guess that’s why I didn’t hear her ask me the question. So now I have an ‘F’ entered in my notebook as a “bad class participation punishment.” I hate that bitch.

Seventh period, SCIENCE.

I had fun in the halls. The lead in my arm didn’t hurt that bad, because the pencil wasn’t that sharp when it entered into my flesh. I wonder why that guy stabbed me, shouting, “Loser, loser.” Science was ok. I wish I had understood half of what the teacher was saying, instead of about a tenth. Science used to be fun. But now they make school hard, so you can’t B.S. it. I fell asleep in science. I had a dream. I dreamed that school was out, and that it was summer vacation, and I had fun. But the weird thing in my dream was that, even though it lasted for months, the date was still July 17th, every day. I guess summer vacation was never going to end (what a shame). It was a good dream, and then, all of a sudden, it was September 7th. But the calendar wouldn’t change to September 8th. I kept going to school over and over again, and every day was like today was. That was too much. I woke up. I screamed so loud that a beaker near me broke. I guess I must have really screamed, because everybody in my class just stared at me for about thirty seconds, then the teacher made me sit in the corner.

After he gave the students their assignment, he brought me into the back room. He told me all kind of things like, “I’m failing you for the year. I’m getting you suspended. You will be expelled. I’m giving you 2 months detention. I’m going to go over to your house this summer and kill you. You are going to die a slow and painful death, loser.” I guess he was a little mad at me. HE didn’t scare me as much as the thought of having to go through the “Cratchit-Crotch-Cracker” again.

Finally he sat me back down on the seat, but he made me sit on my hands, and he put a “Dunce” hat on my head. I didn’t even know that those existed. Everybody in the class had a ball laughing at me, shouting, “Loser, loser.” Then, I saw a light. It was like a gift from God. One of the most beautiful sounds that I have ever heard in my entire life. A sound that I would give my life savings to hear one more time.

THE BELL RANG, for its final and last time that day. Now I could get home and get some sleep! I started walking down the halls to catch my bus, but all my books and notebooks fell in the hall, and I had to pick them up, along with my papers. It was a little hard since everybody kept stepping on my hands and kicking me in the face, but I got my books after about 15 minutes.

I RAN LIKE HELL TO CATCH MY BUS, but I missed it.

I started my four-mile walk home, and I was looking at the sky, not really paying much attention to the real world, because it sucked. The majority of the school was still there, because they all were socializing, and lots of others were staying after school for some big club meeting. Anyway, I was looking at the sky, and everybody started yelling. I thought it was a fight, but I didn’t bother looking because I had to get home so I could fail my homework. I guess it wasn’t a fight, as I felt the car’s fender hit sharply into my side, cracking several ribs. That hurt! Then I felt the hood ornament slam into my left eye, causing some blood and fluid to spurt a few feet. I flew up onto the windshield, breaking my nose in the process. “Ouch!” I said as I flew of the back of the car. Since the car that hit me had its brakes on, the car behind it had to slam on its brakes. But it couldn’t slam them hard enough.

This time, it didn’t hurt as much, it just kind of numbed my entire body. The car then slammed into the side of my head, and my head thumped into the asphalt, making a distinct “crack.” I could feel the blood trickling down my face, but I couldn’t move my arms to wipe it off. I could also see a stream of blood spurting out from where my hand was. It was interesting how the spurts followed my pulse… spurt… spurt… spurt… My pulse was getting slower. I could tell that this was the end.

Several kids ran up to me. One of them leaned over to me, and inspected me.

He then leaned closer to me, and put his ear near my mouth to see if I was breathing.

“The loser’s not going to make it!” shouted the kid loudly.

“Thank God,” I mumbled, as everything went black.