You, Me and a Bed Makes Three

- Me -

"i don't wanna be anyone other then what I've been tryna bee lately..." I sing along to the music blaring in my earphones. Blocking out the mundane sounds of my surrounds.

The songs pretty fitting for my mood. I sigh at how true it really is.

I splash some more paint onto the canvas, I step back and look at my latest disaster. The so called art that my teachers praise me for, and my fellow students resent me for. I just think its all I pile of crap. It doesn't even resemble anything. Or mean anything for that matter.

People get millions for painting a square block of blue. Saying it shows how they feel cold. Describes the empty hollow of a persons soul. How it reflects today's society.

How do they get away with it? Anyone could paint that. I mean a two year old with a brush could paint it, yet the idiotic general public buy the crap they sell. Pretending that they can see what the artist is showing, trying to sound all intellectual and crap like that.

Do you know what it reminds me of?

The story about the emperors new clothes.

You know the one where some ruler hires a con man, obviously not knowing he was a con man at the time, to make him the finest clothing. Only there is no clothing and he's led into thinking that the non-existent clothing is made from this super special material that can't be felt or seen.

Oh my god what is that awful smell?

Great the stupid dog just farted. Argh that is gross!

So yeah, where was I. ... oh yeah. The general public. Complete morons. Totally ignorant when it comes to art. Much like my so called wise teachers. And they wonder why I don't bother to turn up to lessons.

I bet their going to say that this painting is showing how free I feel. Alive and living life to the full. Or some bull like that.

I can already feel the dagger like stares from my peers, and I'm all alone in this room. It's kind of comforting in a way. Knowing that someone is that bothered by my existence, enough to care, that they feel the need to glare at me with hate filled eyes.

I look down at my watch. 2am. I'm surprise the cops haven't showed up yet. I've been here for over an hour and the school alarm is still ringing. Then again they must know it's that time of the month when I can't go about my usual night life activities. Being a girl has it's up and it's down. Those 5 god awful days where mother nature just has to ruin my fun have come around again. I mean don't get me wrong I do celebrate a little at first cause it means I'm not pregnant.

So seen as I can't go out and pull some guy, I break into the school. It's ironic really cause when I'm supposed to be here they can't get me in here and when I'm not supposed to be in here they can't keep me out. The doors are usually locked but Geoff, my fave teacher Mr Winkleman but Geoff to me, gave me a spare set after the fifth time of breaking in.

He's my product design teacher. Completely bonkers and really strict. Most of the students are scared of him. You've just got to know how to handle people like him and he'll warm up to you. That and actually do your work. Both things I do. I just don't do my work in lessons. The first term of year 12 I did it in class but then I decided I would be more productive away from the confinements of my school so I asked if I could just do all my work at home and not go to lessons. At first he was against the idea but after I finished the whole project in two weeks instead of 2 months he gave into me and let me do as I pleased. I think the fact that it was pretty much perfect as well that he agreed.

Not many men can resist my charm and give into me. The school knows it and as a result I now have mainly female teachers. Well my other four a-level teachers are female. They tried to separate me and Geoff but with him being the deputy head he refused to let his best student go. Ha in you face Ms Sourface! Aka headmistress Ms Sloane.