For the Angel

When I was in elementary school, I couldn't wait to get out!  I mean, who doesn't?  We all dreamed of going into junior high and suddenly, BOOM! You were a teenager, you got your own cell phone, all the boys suddenly started liking you because you were pretty.  Boys were just, yknow, stupid in elementary. Right? Well, that's what we all thought. But things just didn't seem right when I got to fifth grade.  Summer was perfect, and I couldn't wait to get to my school.  Back then, schools was a dream; easy homework, being smarter than everybody else in the class, and nobody cared if you hadn't brushed your hair in, say, a couple weeks? Well, i got into my class and found my old friends and had lots of fun talking about how much fun we had during our break. I was nearly jumping out of my skin for lunch time.  I was used to not having the same class as my BEST friend, so we alway met up at lunch. I mean, really, my very best friend. We had a couple things in common, but everything else was completely opposite. And what can i say, opposites most DEFINITELY attract.  Like boys and girls. He was gorgeous and funny, I was plain and...

Oh yeah, i was telling a story.

So anyways, we went to lunch.  I got my cup noodles and waited in line for the hot water machine.  Then, with a steaming cup in hand, I frantically looked for a place to sit.  But i could not for the life of me spot my best friends golden hair.  It usually stood out right away, glinting in a lonely corner. But nothing showed.  That's when I remembered that she had switched to a charter school. And no just any charter school. The one i most desprately wanted to go to.  An art charter school. How i loved to act, draw, play music, and do so many other arts! It just wasnt fair that my mother wasnt letting me go there. So i went and sat with my other friends for the rest of the year.

Now, good stories would end up having it that some miracle would happen, i would go to school with my best friend and my life would be perfect. I would grow up to be a super artist selling millions of beautiful pictures to everybody in the world and everyone would praise me. Well, it just so happens that this story is not that cool. Yeah, bummer.  So stop reading. Right now.

 

 

Hello. To thoose of you still reading, thank you. You olbviously wouldnt stand for that type of crap.  I mean, what kind of a story would that be? So lets fast forward to May.

By the way, my name is Sophronia.  Sophronia Astrall.

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heehee

the thing about the hair... my hair was never brushed until the sixth grade. and i have to admit, i survived for a very long time.  One of my friends later admitted to doing the same thing. Two other friends i know did the same thing, because they were in the same class with me. :D oh, good times.