:It's all {usless}:Kiah
Apr 4, 2014 7:15:32 GMT -5
Post by d11a tsiuri dermott ☕ minie on Apr 4, 2014 7:15:32 GMT -5
C A M I L L E B L A C K M O R E School is boring, in fact it isn't just boring but also useless, like who cares if we can add numbers togerther or if we know what happened in the past, the past is the past anyway. Mom and dad force me to school, they tell us just because we are a family of meat eating canibals doesn't mean we don't have to go to school during the day. I hate the day, I can't be myself and I am always pertemding to be a nice girl who wouldn't hurt a fly, but to those who know the Blackmore secrets, well I can be my good old self, the vicious killer. I sit in the back of the classroom. It is quite boring to be honest, the walls are arn't decorated with anything, and it all seems the smae as if it was all one and one boring thing. The noise level in the classroom is very low, no one dares to talk, not with this teacher, we know that if one peep comes out of our mouths we will be in so much trouble that we will go down in history books (which no one reads anyway). Most of the kids in my class are bent over their papers and doing the work that the teacher gave us. Those are the kids that have the best grades, the ones like me that arn't the best are leaned back in our chair. The smater bunch look as if we were thinking of something. The rest are staring out into the middle of no where. I look down at my sheet of paper, too notice that I was moving the pencil around the whole time, the results look like a few lines that were scribbled down. I couldn't even pass this as work if the teacher would look on my paper. Our teacher always is walking through the rows in the classroom to find out, who does their work and who doesn't give a shit, I always manage to scribble down a few things that looks like what were are supposed to do, but this doesn't seem like much, it looks like a baby tried to make some art work, a disgrace. My parents know that I don't care about school, but still they send me here anyway this place is nothing but hell. AS the teacher walks closer to my desk, I quickly jot a few numbers down, where the answers should go to, math is never my thing and so she wouldn't be suprised if I got the worng answers, like always. I try to scan the problems to see if I could guess a number that is somewhat close to the answer, but I have no luck, numbers just arn't my thing and probably will never be. I like words, words that can hurt a person so much that they kill themselves. Words that can drive one insane, sometimes I truly do believe that the pen is stronger than the sword but I have to remember about my knife that took so many life's. The teachers blue eyes scan my paper and her mouth gives me a dissaproving frown, the one she is always giving me, when she checks my work. It screams that she thinks that I am a hopeless case. Someday I wish that when I am hunting in the alleys she would come on bbye so that I can make her die slowly and painfuly, my blade slowly cuttiing her throat. I could almost feel the warmth of her blood covering my fingers as her life slowly fades away into nothingness, where it belongs. She never ment anything to anyone and never will mean anything to anyone she is a no one and I will make sure she dies a no one, someday I will achieve that. In reality all I can do is mumble "I'll try harder" As I hoped she grunts and leaves me back to do my work, which I won't do, because as I said, math isn't usefull no one can use it for anything, besides who wants to know how to add numbers together. Luckily I didn't have to go through the tourcher much more, because the bell rang and I was free from this torture. The class filed out of the classroom and as I was going to go out, my teacher sent me an evil look as if she was the one who was going to do the killing. I rolled my eyes towards here and walked out of the door. template by chelsey |