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I groaned into my pillow as my alarm clock's obnoxious ringing filled my ears. Today is one of the most dreaded days in a teenager's life. Today is the day that separates freedom from labor. Today is the first of school.

Yeah, I am dramatic, but so what. I don't like school, but can you blame me? Sitting in uncomfortable chairs next to a bunch of fools and listening to a corpse-like teacher really isn't my cup of tea. The only bright side to my situation is that this is my last year of the horrible place called high school.

I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed and shut off my alarm. I went into my ensuite bathroom and took a look at myself in the mirror. My long blonde hair was in a knotted mess, my thin body was covered in a raggedy t-shirt, and my under eye circles were darker than ever. This is definitely not the way I want people to see me.

I took a quick shower and got my clothes out for the day. I heated my curling iron while I put on my tribal print tank top and jean shorts. Once my hair was in perfect little ringlets, I put on a dash of makeup and went downstairs.

I turned on the T.V. on my kitchen countertop as I began eating my bowl of Frosted Flakes. I was about to switch the channel from the news to something more interesting, but something caught my eye. A woman's face came on the screen as she presented the newest news scandal.

"A London teacher has been let go from the school system because of having romantic relations with one of his students. Let's take a look."

The newscaster's face left the screen, and two other faces came on. An older looking man, and a girl that looked my age. 

It showed clips from an interview they had. I found myself gagging when the man, who was a twelfth grade English teacher, began telling the world about his affair with his eighteen year old student. After he admitted that he left his wife and two kids for this girl, I turned the television off.

I shook my head as I put my bowl and spoon into the sink. What is wrong with people these days?


After a final mirror check, I grabbed my keys and walked to my car. Five minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot of my high school, Holmes Chapel Comprehensive School. 

Also known as death.

I went to the office and got my schedule. I looked down at the flimsy piece of paper and cringed when I saw my name. Mackenzie Miller. I hate it, it is way too fancy. I cringed even more when I saw my first class period. Math.

I walked into the class, and was happy to see my best friend, Kennedi Morgan.

"Hey bitch.", she said as she motion for me to sit next to her.

"Hey whore.", I responded.

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