The Days Of Hellfire

Chapter Two.

-Mysophobia: fear of germs.

SCHOOL WAS such an overrated place.

There were so many problems with school that it was almost laughable that they were even still a real place. For one thing, there were too many cliques. There's a clear division amongst the many different groups at school that it was sad.

Everyone had some type of group or place in the social status of it, and no one tried to disrupt the flow of how the students worked against one another. There were the overachievers, who fought each other to be the next valedictorian while still trying to balance a shaky friendship. There were the drama and art kids, who all hung out in the hallway at the back of the school and always were either tranquil, or angry. Then there were the stoners, the do-gooders, the nerds, the bullies, the weirdo's who always smelled like dirty hot dog water and farted on taco meat, The jocks- Football, Lacrosse, Soccer, Basketball, and Baseball- and the Pops.

The pops, cliche as it was, were a group of narcissistic, bitch faced, no personality having hoes who, also very cliche, were varsity cheerleaders. Pitifully original, she knew.

Although Winter was an artist, she did not like to be around other ones. They made her uncomfortable and feel pressured. She tried to hang with them once, just so she could understand what it would be like to be surrounded by people with creative abilities like her, but they were mostly stuck up and rude. They flashed their art around and demanded praise for their work, and then they tried to bully Winter into showing off some of her work so that they could size her up and see just how good she was.

She refused, of course, and told them all where they could stick it before she hastily escaped them. They were not true artists. It wasn't right to do what they did. An artist was to be humble, yet confident in their works. Those people were just savages. Mean, terrible savages who only craved recognition rather than showing what they were made of from their souls.

So, no, she did not like being around them. She rather fancied her small group of friends instead: the clique that was mashed up with people of several different hobbies and interests, who somehow became friends with each other. There was Herself, the Artist. Kristopher, The golden boy and the Quarterback for the School's raging, rampaging Bulls. Then there was Angie, her strong willed companion who laughed in the face of danger while dancing her butt off in a pair of Loui Vuittons like it was no one's business. And Leon. Leon, quiet, smart, athletic and a perfect gentleman. He was in the run to be valedictorian, and yet he was too kind and too honest to be friends with the others who were as well.

Together, they formed a ragtag group of friends, and their friendship wasn't exactly unlikely. It was just a little bit strange. But they were all great friends, and would continue to be for a very long time.

The next problem with schools were the teaching tactics. If Winter was being honest with herself, she knew that she would forget all of the stuff she was learning by the time she left this hellhole and began her first stages into adulthood. The school didn't teach her anything but to be able to hold or memorize something long enough until she passed her tests, then moved onto something else.

It wasn't about learning. It was about surviving. And putting yourself through constant torture just so you can get into a good college and have a decent future. If not for those reasons, she would have long since raised some hell and slapped a teacher back into prehistoric times just for making her put up with "learning" day in and day out for the last eleven so years.

Winter sighed as Kristopher pulled into the student parking lot of the high school. He maneuvered his truck all the way down to the end of the lot, right in the corner that rested between the sidewalk and parked car. He didn't like parking so close to the other kids because he thought that they didn't understand how to drive or pull out of a parking space correctly. He didn't voice his opinion outright, because he was too kind to be so rude, but he did make it known that he'd rather park away from the rest of them to avoid as little possibility of an accident as possible.