The Principal's Daughter

It’s junior year of high school. Yesterday was my last day of “freedom”. These days, there isn’t much. No one is really free. (Figuratively and literally) Well, at least of homework and lessons. Unlike most people, I don’t mind homework. Sure, sometimes it might be hard. But isn’t life hard? This homework thing we do, because our teachers in school assign it to us, is the one thing we know for sure. The one thing we can prepare for is right before our eyes (let’s be real for once, we aren’t God). This wretched thing called “homework”. The evil thing. But is it really evil if it’s helping you to succeed? No, but it’s not like anyone thinks about these kinds of things. Only me of course.

Anyways, I’m kinda hoping that this year will be different from the rest. Sophomore year wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t the greatest either. Freshman year though, that’s when you are “fresh meat”. The cycle of freshman coming in every school year. Hooray to them. Maybe I can try to meet new people this year. Make new memories all around.

OOMF! “Hey! Watch where you’re going!“, someone-I-don’t-know-the-name-of said when I ran into him. “Ummm…” You have got to be kidding me. Day one and I already bumped into someone. I can already see the headlines: Amelia Reinhart Dies of Clumsiness. “I’m so sorry, I … didn’t see you.” “No kidding Mrs. Clumsy. You must have been born on a highway, because that’s where most accidents happen.” “What’s your problem? I just apologized for bumping into you like any polite human being would. A sane person would accept the apology and move on with their lives. But no. You have to go and insult me. But hey, if you’re insane you should probably go to a mental hospital. Have a nice day.” I didn’t wait to hear his response. I spun around and pushed past the crowd. Except there is no crowd. They probably saw the whole commodity. But I guess that’s my price to pay. The price of being the principal’s daughter.