Survivors of the Black Weekends

The beginning of the end

There are various versions of the events that you are about to read but all involved unanimously agree it all began when Ashleigh left. It was one of the most dramatic and yet anti-climactic departures I had witnessed. Her reasons remained a mystery to most of the populace but that didn't stop anyone from concocting their own theories and then broadcasting them. Whether it was because she missed her old friend Suzie, she was fed up with the school, if she couldn't handle biology anymore or whether it was to escape her ex Randy.

Ash was the type of person that everyone knew. She and her insitent drumming had left but not before she marked all the tables in the classroom with, 'tits out for the boys.'

Classic Ash.

"We'll see each other again really soon," she continued to say as she left. No one believed her. Others had made the same promises and none had been able to deliver. We'd miss her to some degree but of course not as much as Randy would. 

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Entering senior year was the most anti-climactic experience I've had. Not that I expected to wake up with a renewed vigour or excitement for school, but there was this scepticism of whether we were even psychologically ready to face school again. By some sort of sorcery the holiday had vanished before anyone could have made any productive ventures out of it. The term school should be applied very lightly to this prison like institution and it should be noted that we were all here against our will. It was some sort of backward society, where the females were subservient and all too willing to bow down to the males and where 'teaching' was interchangeable with 'getting-paid-for-nothing.' But there was a silent hope amongst everyone that this year could possibly be corruption free and we would not continue our accursed legacy. That the school, for better or for worse (usually the latter) would somehow be 'alright.'

Walking to class in the eerie, mysterious and obsolete corridor was a burden in itself. There was something off about the atmosphere in class. There weren't that many people already there but whoever was here, had already assumed and claimed their seats for the year. Little did we know that we would hardly spend any time in the classroom.

"Where's El?" Melissa asks. I roll my eyes. We all knew El had self-proclaiming an extension to her holidays, spending some time at her holiday house in New Zealand. We grab a purple marker and write, 'left school,' next to her name on the roll, unbeknownst to what we had started.

There were resounding groans as people stepped in. Everyone had heard about the mixed English classes and everyone was sufficiently pissed off. Except the cabbage crew, but that's a whole different story. No one, besides the illicit vegetables, were thrilled at the prospect of sharing yet another class with the infuriating mongrel rats. After the departure of two highly appreciated English teachers, gladly driven away half by the rats and half by the overlord of English who had a hidden talent for over-dramatic acting, we were left hopeless in English. The overlord had seen to it that she make our learning experience that much more traumatic by forcing us to work with the rats...but I mean how much drama could English even spark (tumultuous apparently, if you had the right rats and a pathetic faux facebook class discussion).

"I can't wait for a drama free year," Jess says as she swaggers into the classroom. One look at the timetable sends her into a psychotic rage.

Business was first.

It wasn't the subject that repulsed, rather it was due to the devilish, scummy teacher they had- and that was putting it lightly. To describe Miss Lucy (everyone speculated it was short for Lucifer) would contain more explicates than anything. She had a tendency to fraternise and idolise the most repulsive male (or to be more specific, ratty) students. Her sexist, racist and downright discriminatory attitude, belonged with the rest of her bullshit ideologies -in hell.

"If we don't have a new teacher today I swear I'm going to complain to the education board!" Melissa begins, her eyes gleaming with a devilish hint.

"Guy I thought I was going to be late," Sheniqua says as she pants into class. "I swear I had such a shitty morning, if those rats even speak today..."

"I swear if they so much as breathe..." Jess says through gritted teeth.

Rats had become the official for the boys in our school. It wasn't underserved. It wasn't based over a simple grudge or something pathetic like cooties. There was a list a mile long about the various lowly actions of the rats. It was not that they physically resembled rats (to be fair some of them actually did resemble members of the rattus rattus species) but that they had an essence in every action and every word they uttered that was disgusting and completely rat-like. However this was not going to be the year of the rats, we had unanimously decided to give zero shits about them.

As the loud shrill of the bell marked the beginning of our final year of misery, Riley walks in and yells loudly "Guys guess who's back!"

We had no idea what we were in for.