The Show-Off Dream

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What’s the point in having a degree if you can’t flaunt it? Well me and friend decided we’d go back to my High School to show it off (not that I actually have a degree yet). The school Uniform now stated that you must wear all black, so we, being the rebels we were, wore white T-Shirts under our jumpers.
We found a lesson teaching English on the top floor of Block 3, and decided to sit in on it to see how different it was being taught.
It was so difficult! We didn’t understand any of it. We decided to leave during lunch because it was so horrible. That was when this new teacher told us, “Oh, by the way, I expect you all to stay here during lunch and break. I’ve done this for the past two years now.”
Time to reveal ourselves and get out of there. But before we could, she came and sat next to me to ask if I had any advice for the class. I told them to read books and stuff. Sound advice.
We legged it out of the classroom, and on a balcony above us, some rather chubby students started throwing balloons at me. Every time they threw one it hit me in the face. It was quit heavy too. “Oi!” I shouted. They all giggled, and waited until I had walked under the balcony to throw one at me on the other side.
I tried to throw it back at them, but it was as light as a normal balloon when I threw it.
“Little shits,” I mumbled.
“We’re in year eleven!” said the puppy fat chavs.
“Yeah, well I’m in Uni,” I said proudly, displaying my white T-Shirt. That shut them up.
We decided to visit some of the old teachers during the lunch break. We cut across the gigantic art room, and ended up in the P.E room at the end (even though P.E is traditionally, you know, taught outside) where a load of kids were doing star jumps.
But no stairs there. We doubled back, our feet sounding noisy on the polished floors. We eventually found the staircase and went down one flight of dodgy stairs. The second flight looked even dodgier. As in non-existent. It was a massive pile of rubble, with red tape and copper wires everywhere. We just thought there’d been some bad health and safety – how else could we get down to the ground level? My friend went first, and she was clearly skinnier than me because she found an exit and made it through.
I, on the other hand, got stuck. In my sleep, I started to feel really claustrophobic. I was going to die in this tiny collapsed stairwell. If only I’d seen the “NO ENTRY” sign.

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