School .School. School.
High school.
That place. That building, those buildings.
I used to call it The Asylum, due to the fact that it was a madhouse. One rule for one person and a different rule for the next. Often I felt trapped in any of the four walls in a room I entered and as a result, often I grew mad. Frustrations mounted in a youth like me and I remember physically and mentally being so tired of school. That about half way through I broke down and in my tears, demanded to be moved. (It never happened cause I took it back and then went on a mad one. )
I remember thinking how uniform, forced and difficult it all was. That everyone was pushing despite being told we were supposed to walk on the left. I remember making friends with a few of my classmates but more so I remember hierarchy.
As a year seven you are the bottom of the social standing. There are some exceptions; those with connections to higher years, those who do sports, those who have some insane talent and those who are bad. Bad kids always stick out like a sore thumb. Especially those with no real behavioural problem, but we're getting ahead of ourselves here.
The year elevens didn't like me. That was a serious strike against me. As they were the top of the class structure. In the mid tier, poised to take over where the year nines. Possibly the most important year group as the year eights above me where a non factor. (They weren't into beef, they weren't into drugs, (like that) they weren't into porn..*scratch that*). They just where very chill individuals. So the year nine's where the ones to watch, fortunately for me I had some family friends in that year.
Where they of high ranking ? I'd say fairly liked. Unfortunately for me, they came with baggage.