My Day at School
My friend Sophie informs me at lunch about her big idea. I wasn't really paying attention, I was reading my book, deep in the pages of an adventuress story all about a walk through the jungle, I don't know which jungle it is but, I was so intrested in my book that I only caught one part of what Sophie said.
"We have a big science assessment that needs to get done, and it's due Friday of this week. I need more time to finish an assessment this long!" Sophie explains.
"Yep." I reply.
"Are you even paying attention?" Sophie asks. She lays her hand on top of my book, and lowers it to look me in the eyes.
"Sophie I need to read this book it is so interesting and juicy." I comment. Sophie looks at me awkwardly.
"Books don't have an interesting and juicy tone of life itself though. You should really take a break." Sophie response. I nodded my head.
"As soon as I'm done with this page though." I teased. Sophie made a weird noise when she sighed. " I'm kidding, plus reading is good for the mind. It expands your vocabulary." I explain. I knew I was right I was way smarter then Sophie. New vocabulary is good for the human mind. And imagination has wide ranges for you. A book could be horror which sends horrific images to your head. And fantasy, when I hear that word I just hear rainbows and unicorns. But that is not what it is all about... fantasy can have a good range of imagination as well. But Sophie doesn't understand that. She only understands the concept of, freak my friend out until she goes beserk!
"Well, does your book behold life's greatest treasures?" Sophie questions.
OK I'm starting to wonder if she's teasing me now. Look at Sophie straight into her eyes, it feels like I'm staring into her soul.
"Well, no but behold the wonder of imagination." I say.
I manage to squeeze in a few more pages. All this reading, I know it's good for me. And I love to read, I never get to look at the real world and what selfie was talking about. What can life possess that's way better than a good book? I set my book down, but Sophie takes her phone out and starts prank playing piano tiles to. I knew A buck was way better than life, someone tries to grab my attention from my book, but whenever I try to grab someone else's attention, there always caught on their phone. What does a phone do, besides playing games and calling 911 for help?
Lunch is over by the tone of the bell. I gather all my stuff and headed to my fifth period class.
As I entered the class, my friend Josie said so her desk armed with paper and pencil. I walked over to my desk, opened up my binder, and grabbed my favorite pencil, also write out my assessment I was working on yesterday.
"Hey Jazz, doing any good on your assessment?" Josie asks.
"I don't know, I'm halfway through it and I haven't even proof read it." I whisper. When you write you always have to double check it just in case it has errors, and to make sure your sentences are smooth. Your grammar makes sence also. Verbs, adjectives, blah, blah, blah. Even though proof reading takes forever for me, I do it anyways. Because I want my work to be perfect. I wanted to stand out from the rest of the class. To shine at my best. And I was best at writing. I also write books, that is probably the help I need to be a really good writer. I always make sure I have an interesting topic so people are interested. And leaves them wanting to read the next chapter. But am I a good writer? I always thought that, that is what I wanted to do, I wanted to be an author.
Josie bursts aloud breaking my train of thought, "Proof read, smoof read. I don't care about proofreading." Great! She disagrees with me. Rechecking your work is good for you, imagine turning work that was sloppy. And just said that it was uninspired. Ugh... I will hate that day when my teacher says that to me. But Josie was smart so I guess she didn't really need to proof read her stuff, and that is probably the reason why she doesn't feel like she needed to.
"Stop talking Josie you're making me fidget." I complain. I wanted to get back to work, and actually focus on something that was important to my life and would effect my career later in my future. When you want become something, you strive to do your best during school so you could get a job. And I feel that I need to work hard so I can get my desired job. So I focus back on my paper, rechecking sentences and stuff.
Josie goes back to work finally, and I'm back in the zone, buried into my work. I write and write until my hand is finally worn out, and there is about twenty minutes left in class. I'm done with my assessment, I proof read it, three times, all the things seemed to be in order. I searched through my binder and found the direction sheet, read it over and looked over my paper one more time to see if it would fit school standard, seems to be perfectly fine so I get up out of my seat and walk over to the turning been for all work goes my new done with it. A pile of ungraded papers from yesterday sits in the wake of the bin. I slowly put my essay in the bin and was wondering hamley accidents I had on my essay. But it sits in the bin of horror as they walked to my seat.
I imagine is many possible things that could be wrong with my paper, but it doesn't help, so I read my book. I'm always done with my work early or on time, so I was so proud of myself and was intrested in how many opportunities I would have to get a job just right for me. I have homework in reminder that I could do, but it takes a snap to get it done, not enough me time period so I always read and spend as much time is as I can buried in my own original thoughts.
My friends are smart, but they're not like me at all, they try to be on their phone 247 cama when they're done with their work they always hide their phone under their desk to play a game or text a friend which is the opposite of academic.
My mother wants me to have a phone but I convinced her that I didn't need a distraction for my life's work, my real potential work. Phones, tablets, any technology I hate cars out distract me from my own real life. I'm synced into my work and so ready to get my essay back soon.
The bell rings, time for sixth period. I slowly walked out the door because of the traffic jam, many people shifted out the tiny doorway.
Once I got out of Room for one, I strayed on the right side of the hallway, behind me the worst person in the universe, Logan Malice, his last name contains the prefix 'Mal-' which means badd or not good, his last name matches with his personality.
Once I find my 6. Class I settled myself in to my assigned seat, and armed myself with paper and pencil. A paper contained easy math equations I was familiar with, adding integers and percents are too easy for me. The rest of the class struggles with the subject, but my teacher is at most impressed with me, and likes me as a student very much. It seems like they teachers are the only one to listen and pay attention to me.
I come across a problem that I'm too familiar with.
-50 - 467= ?
467 + 50 = 517
I got the answer so quick that I didn't even stutter to place my answer down. I finished all my work on brought out my book, I read it and read it until I'm on the last page my book. Well, and I don't have extra book on me. So I bring out my binder and pull out my homework, assigns packet, I reading packet, history of Washington, and the study of musicality. Oh, which one to choose… reading it is!
I read paragraph after paragraph An answer question after question. I was getting a bit bored because all of the classes are too easy for me. I need a harder classes, I'm going to talk to the principal after school.
Day crept hour by hour, soon the end of the day bell weighing at 2:40 in the evening. All students scrambled out of their seats and was very untidy with their stuff. I squeezed in a few more words in my science journal, I recorded all my work down my work packet as I could. You merely grabbed my stuff and put it away where belongs. I've got my chair and swinged it on to my desk. Then I walked out of the classroom door to the hallway and walks load slowly to my locker.
The traffic in the hallway is more terrible at the end of the day, it takes you 5 minutes to get your locker, I'm in it to gather your stuff in form in is to get out of school. I open my locker, got my stuff into my backpack common and charged out the door.
I walk home like most teens, it's good exercise. It's a mile walk to my house but I like the scenery, and my mother can't drive she has foot problems.