It's June 2nd, 9a.m., and the humidity is only beginning to roll in. Thick, ominous walls go up in the sky. And Sam is stuck in the middle, suffocating in a brick box kids call school.
Now don't get me wrong, the brick box isn't always so bad. Sam sees his my friends, likes most of his classes and occasionally someone will open the windows. It's just that today was exceptionally torturous. Sam can see the light at the end of the tunnel, only seven more days and no longer could he be considered a high school student. Only two classes did Sam have to endure each day, but those classes ticked on for hours. Every passing second Sam was convinced the walls were moving in closer and closer.
"Beeeeep," time for his second and last class of the day. If sitting in class was difficult, walking through those dark, narrow halls was unbearable. "I dare someone to walk through just one hall and not get pushed, shoved, smacked with an oversized backpack, trip over a wheely-backpack, coughed on or drowned in a sea of Axe and other overused cologne," Sam thought to himself. Hurry, hurry! Up the stairs and into the safety of a classroom; ehhh or not. First, it's an economics classroom = not fun! Second, that annoying pot head is talking nonsense again, the second bell hasn't even rung and already Mrs. Moody has steam coming out of her ears.
Forty minuets, less than an hour and Sam is home-free. Free to watch t.v. and sleep, or play soccer, or eat an entire pizza, whatever he wants, schoolwork is out of the equation. "Wait, did the minute hand just move backwards? God, PLEASE get me out of here, I'm going insane!" Sam could not sit still. "38 minutes and 54 seconds, 38:53, 52, 51. . .," was all Sam could think about to keep his mind from exploding.
"Okay, take out a sheet of paper, books away, time for your quiz."
We have a quiz?! On what chapter? Why couldn't I have gotten the swine flu like every other kid in this world?
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one . . . beeeep! Sam ran out of that classroom and was in the student parking lot before the halls could swarm with buzzing students. But of course, Sam thought, as the bored security guard chased Sam to his car.
"Do you have I.D.?"
"You see my I.D. everyday. Remember, you ask for my I.D., I roll my eyes, take it out of my wallet, you stare at if for a good three seconds then go "Oh yes, Sam, okay Sam I will remember you."
"Don't give me that attitude, these are the rules, blah blah blah, now where is your I.D.?"
Don't get mad, stay calm, you're almost home. Five more minutes. Five, four, three, two, one.
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