• Be sure to join the discussion on our discord at: Discord.gg/serebii
  • If you're still waiting for the e-mail, be sure to check your junk/spam e-mail folders

My (Crummy) School Day (Rated PG-13/Original Drabble/One Shot [not really sure which)

Ventus3

Waiting for summer
Author's Notes: Yeah, I felt like making a story based slightly off my day; sorry if it's badly written in advanced, but I kind of like to write about things while they're still fresh in my mind or else it comes out wrooong wrong >_>.

My (Crummy) School Day: (Rated PG-13 for occasional censored words, yadda-yadda)

Dear Journal/Diary/Whatever the Crud you call this thing:

And so begins another monotonous day of the life of me. I wake up as I scratch my wrather curly brown hair. I drag myself out of my bed at six in the morning, almost falling asleep again; I then look through my droors to realize I have no clean clothes.

I hate this place, I thought to myself as I just found whatever was clean; the outfit was basically just a blue volunteer shirt from some biking event and a pair of white capris.

The sky was a dark indigo color as I then dragged myself with my clothes and to the bathroom where I took a shower in my small bathroom. Ugh, my bathroom is not exactly what a normal person would call clean, but it's sanitary enough to bathe in, so I don't really mind. I got changed from my dark blue colored pajamas into my outfit.

I really need to plan this crap out the night before, I think to myself as I walk out of the bathroom fully dressed.

I walked along, noticing how cheaply the stairs were made. I saw that the spikes that were normally hidden in almost plain view since the cheap workers had to finish my town-home with haste. Of course, I hated my small little h***-hole of a town-home. Disorganized, dirty, wrather boring t'was except for a large television set that my family managed to find one day for free that nobody bothered to claim so we just kept it. I walked through the living room that only has a large couch, a chair, and a coffee table as I passed through an arch into the kitchen.

The dishes were not piled up yet, a rare event in a household of six people like mine; I then opened a fake wood cabinet with a dingy handle as I reached really high with my arm for one of the blue bowls. After one of them, I set it on the counter opposite of the sink as I got out the many colored cereal many people in the U.S. know as "Fruit Loops". I poured the Fruit Loops into the blue bowl of cereal and then got out the milk from the old white refridgerator as I poured the white milk from its carton into the bowl. I munched on the cereal as my Mom was in the small half bathroom drying her hair and getting ready to go off to the school where she tought at.

She came out as she applied make-up to her normally colorless lips. Her light blonde hair stayed in place in an almost controlled fashion. I was never really sure if she put hairspray in her hair or what, it just stayed in place most of the time in the morning.

"See you soon," my Mom told me as she left and got into a blue SUV.

I heard the car drive off from the small parking space that was to the left of a medium sized tree.

I then turned my eyes as I stared rather sharply at my Civics book. I disliked Civics, of course, I have no reasoning, but I just did. It was a bit of a hard subject for me because I have a pretty inadequate logic. In most other classes, my imagination is in cages, and my logic rules, but by the time I get to Civics, the roles reverse and it makes everything hard to remember.

I realized that I forgot something from last night's homework. I opened up the page as I copied down the answers to the questions; the answers were straight from the book, an easy yet tedious task for my unskilled hands to use. In short, my handwriting is the equivalent of a third grader's in neatness, one of my (many) short-comings in life.

I sat down as my self reflection ended, I ate my cereal with slight disgust, realizing that I had let it get completely flavorless and soggy due to my long thought process. I eventually finished as I tried to comprehend what I needed for school and ran up to my humble "cave" to get my black backpack. It was a pretty decent backpack, but the silver lining was the only thing I didn't really care for in it. I picked up my backpack and trudged on as I carried the object which was filled with my Algebra homework.

I disliked Algebra also; t'wasn't that the class was boring (well kind of), but the fact that I sat right under the large air vent where cold air blew out and would make me shiver.

But wait, why am I talking about my last classes of the day? Stupid me, anyway, I was in Keyboarding and my teacher is a real stickler for not being on time. My bus came in thirty seconds before the moment of silence started and nobody signed my planner so I had to sit out the whole class. I didn't really mind, I would'nt have anything to do anyway since I had no missing grades to make up.

Spanish class was not really that exciting. My teacher was a bit excited, but I wasn't since I knew there was going to be a quiz today. When I got the quiz, I thought it would be hard, but it was rather easy. I completed the test with ease and gave it back to the teacher about five minutes before class ended.

Physical Education, I hate that class! It's evil! Well, I may be saying something extreme, but I have my reasons. Even though I'm not obese or fat or over-weight at all, I hate team-oriented sports, soccer is not an exception, but at least I wasn't stuck playing basketball. I was stuck as goaly; I didn't really need to do much so I did just fine for most of the games. But, one game, we had to go against a team with a ton of people from the actual soccer team, (and some people who play dirty). Gah! my hand still hurts!

While I was trying to pick up the ball, some dude from the other team kicked my hands repeatedly trying to keep me from picking up the ball. I wonder what I would have said to him if I actually had the guts to say anything.

~Dream Sequence Begin~

"Um . . . dude, can I pick up the ball you ignorant piece of s***? It's kind of called stay out of the goaly box," I would have said, probably glaring at him. "Do you really lack enough of your life to play dirty just for kicks?" I would have asked as I would have probably bluffed him with a false hit in the face.

~Dream Sequence End~

And so, after Physical Education, I went to my locker. I opened it to realize something that was utterly horrid.

"I forgot . . . my . . . lunch!" I suddenly said to my friend who looked at me like I was crazy or something since she normally went without breakfast or lunch.

"Fine, I'll give you this," My friend said as she handed me some yogurt and a plastic spoon.

"Thanks!" I said as I almost thought about hugging her to near-death just for the h*** of it.

I walked through the main square of my school. I stared down at the grayed tiles that I was standing on. The blue walls with may posters and signs for different fundraisers and awards were plastered above a couple of blue seats. I was waiting in a line in front of the doors to the dirty cafeteria.

The eight graders (me) got the cafeteria second to last. It was usually dirty or ridden with litter and disgusting food that was covered in dust under the tables. I ate the yogurt that my friend gave me with haste as I looked at my school books.

"Civics and Algebra on the same day, H*** on Earth 2008 anybody?" I muttered off-handedly, considering there wasn't any teachers of mine in the cafeteria yet, I guess it was okay to maybe say one curse word; especially since it was saintly compared to the "rainbow" of vocabulary that my "interesting" friends had.

"I would be dead if I had to deal with two ugly men in one day," my friend said as she took out a can of lemon-lime flavored soft drink and opened the aquamarine and green can with a snap sound of the carbon dioxide being suddenly unbottled; she swiped her extensive curly hair, and she liked to call herself Sheap Head because of the texture of her dirty blonde hair.

"You have that kind of soda everyday, no wonder you're out of shape," I remarked, remembering how I got seven minutes and twenty eight seconds on a test to see how fast somebody could run a mile (one point six kilometers) while my friend got fourteen minutes (I still can't believe she got exhausted from walking such a short distance).

"Oh be quiet, I already know that I'm not exactly the greatest athletically," Sheap Head objected.

You're not exactly the best academically either, but that would be hipocritical since I usually procrastinate also, I thought to myself as I let the conversation slip into the busy noise of the cafeteria.

Eventually, my thirty minute lunch ended and I got up, making sure I had all my stuff in a casual manner, I walked off to Civics; in about an hour and a half, I went to Algebra and finished out the "magical" school day.

Magical, that's more b.s. than Candy Mountain, I thought to myself as I took a seat to my demonic and seemingly neverending Civics class.

If I die and go to H***, it will be a giant Civics textbook. Why? Well, I just hate having to think so rationally and state my answers so formally that it makes my imagination just want to yell out. Of course, I can't yell in the class, so it feels like mental torture sitting there and recording the notes of my rather large teacher who's talking about the current politics and the U.S. presidential election to take place this year.

After sitting in my seat, writing notes on my homework, the teacher went around and checked everyone's homework. I did mine, but it was not exactly accurate, one of the worksheets being confusing and hard to solve since it required a review of past material from sixth and seventh grade that I simply thought was not extremely important. Eventually after my mental torture (Civics), I left the class room in a nauseated state and into a rowdy crowd of kids who went to regular middle school classes.

I'm in a program, it's not really all that great, but it's okay. If I met my friends here it's not totally an abyss right? Anyway, I go into the Algebra room and realize that I have a quiz today.

"We have a quiz today don't we?" I nervously asked a girl that sat next to me.

"Yeah, the weekly quiz is today," The girl with light chestnut hair which ran down to her chest responded.

Algebra started as I did the warm-up. Order of operations was another one of those subjects that was not hard to remember, but slightly hard to apply properly without forgetting something. The teacher went around the check the homework. I did mine, but I was confused about a question, only to realize that I didn't need to to the problem for the homework. I held back a little chuckle as I got back to copying down the answers to the warm-up.

Eventually, the class lagged onward as we took down notes, I was practically shivering in my seat as I felt the cold air hit my tan skin like ice. I managed to get down all the notes before we had the weekly quiz. I finished it quickly, an easy quiz to complete since there was only one to three questions per weekly quiz.

We then played a game and took more notes down. The time then flied by until it was time to copy down the homework at the end of the class. I hastily wrote down the homework and got out my books and notebooks to pack up and leave the class for my locker. The teacher released us and then I rushed to my locker. I quickly put my homework books into my backpack and then rushed off to my old yellow bus.

The bus was dirty and had trash from all of the people who decided to lazily throw their trash on the floor, not caring about how disgusting it looked. Of course, our old driver probably let go of things like picking up trash a long time ago, so I didn't open my mouth about it. I sat down in the seat that was on the left. It was two rows from the back row so that I could listen to the "Popular people's" conversation.

The conversation was rather dry, so I started to work on my Algebra homework. I eventually finished the last problem as my bus stopped in front of my neighborhood and I got off. I walked home to see a white mini van and a blue SUV parked.

"Well, my step-dad's off from work," I muttered as I tried to open the door, only to realize my step-dad had locked the door forgetting about me again.

My mom opened the door and welcomed me in. I sat down and talked about how my day went as my mom offered me some chicken noodle soup that my little half brother never bothered to eat. I happily accepted since I was starving and ate the chicken noodle soup hurriedly.

I guess my school day wasn't too bad, I thought to myself as I ate another mouthful of noodles and chicken cubelets.

~Ventus3
 
Last edited:

Titan500

Solar Panels
Your school day is humorous. Hell is cursing but you don't have to censor it. My friends love lunch. Forgetting lunch to them equals starvation.
 

Putty

hatin'
s'ok. i enjoyed reading it and can relate to it to some extent.

i thought the first part (till just before the lunch time dialogue came in) was a huge amount better than the rest. your cynical tone weakened after that and the dialogue wasn't truly interesting. you became a bit more clumsy and lazy throughout the prose and that's reflected largely on the product you've come out with. this is also partly due to the fact that the majority of this is written in present tense, as if you're reliving the whole day and jotting it down as you go along. because of this it seems like a lot of this hasn't been planned or thought through a great deal, nothing's been precisely selected to do whatever it's supposed to do.
if you want to revise this, you'll have to do a hell of a lot to it. there's an enormous amount of content in this piece and each little episode has been described by two or three sentences. you can either
-> cut a huge amount out and put emphasis on the parts that focus on what you did at school to make it a bit of informative prose
-> cut a huge amount out and put emphasis on the parts that convey your cynical mood and put lots more in about your life and maybe how school's such a drag for you
-> don't cut anything out and put tons and tons more in

you've also got some grammatical issues, tense issues and you've put in a lot of cliché phrases. but i won't bother go through that.
don't put a specific phrase in, if you've read or heard it somewhere before.

not bad. how old are you? life gets worse. trust me.

could you do a return on my piece, please?
http://serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?t=355228

thanks,
putty.
 

Putty

hatin'
s'ok. i enjoyed reading it and can relate to it to some extent.

i thought the first part (till just before the lunch time dialogue came in) was a huge amount better than the rest. your cynical tone weakened after that and the dialogue wasn't truly interesting. you became a bit more clumsy and lazy throughout the prose and that's reflected largely on the product you've come out with. this is also partly due to the fact that the majority of this is written in present tense, as if you're reliving the whole day and jotting it down as you go along. because of this it seems like a lot of this hasn't been planned or thought through a great deal, nothing's been precisely selected to do whatever it's supposed to do.
if you want to revise this, you'll have to do a hell of a lot to it. there's an enormous amount of content in this piece and each little episode has been described by two or three sentences. you can either
-> cut a huge amount out and put emphasis on the parts that focus on what you did at school to make it a bit of informative prose
-> cut a huge amount out and put emphasis on the parts that convey your cynical mood and put lots more in about your life and maybe how school's such a drag for you
-> don't cut anything out and put tons and tons more in

you've also got some grammatical issues, tense issues and you've put in a lot of cliché phrases. but i won't bother go through that.
don't put a specific phrase in, if you've read or heard it somewhere before.

not bad. how old are you? life gets worse. trust me.

could you do a return on my piece, please?
http://serebiiforums.com/showthread.php?p=8697838#post8697838

thanks,
putty.
 
Last edited:

Ventus3

Waiting for summer
Thanks Putty, is the thread you want me to respond to a drabble that you made? Also, I'm thirteen >_> I'm stuck in some gifted program because my mom made me sign up for it and they let me in (gah!)
 
Top