True P.O.V

Why would a school restart on a Thursday? That's four days into the week and literally nothing would be accomplished but somehow that's where I was. Inside Mrs. Michelle's math class, pondering suicide, per usual. For some reason, this is the class that makes me give up on the future of teenagers.

I mean is this seriously how they expect us to get jobs? Because I honestly don't see this leading us any where.

I mean I'm a A+ student in this class but that is because the teacher doesn't seem to care about us anymore. In the first halves of the year Mrs. Michelle was a great teacher, but now?

Everyone is on they're phones and enjoying the time instead of learning me, I'm drawing. But that's normal for me.

I wasn't drawing anything important, I know I'm just sketching at this point.

Today wasn't going to be a good day. I could already feel it.

Something was telling me this wasn't going to be a good day, was it the fact that Chris had punched me into a wall this morning, or the large curse fest from mom, my day hasn't started off very well. Other people think that having a hair melt down is the start of a bad day, if my hair messed up it would be a blessing compared to Chris's fists or mom's harsh words.

So yes, my day hasn't been the best.

At this point I can't wait till Parenting 101 because, that's my Thursday class. I don't LOVE Parenting 101, but it's better than Physical Education, P.E. That was simply kids playing dodge ball way to hard.

I mean, majority of the time they were simply throwing those balls at you as hard as possible just because they could. Those bastards.

I hate dodge ball, with a burning passion.

I mean, they go out, start the game and then butcher the other team, and I always gets pounded with the dodgeballs so hard I get bruised. I hated that, I mean I get abused and bullied all the time and then there's a game that allows people to knock you onto the ground by slamming a ball into your face.

This world is really messed up.

I sigh in relief when the bell rings over head. I get all my belongings together, looking up to see Mrs. Michelle resting her head on her hands.

Concerned I walk up to her.

"Mrs. Michelles? What's wrong?" I ask her looking down at the desk concerned at the teacher.

She looks up at me a shocked look on her face, and looked around seeing the classroom empty.

"Where is everyone else?" She asked in a weak voice. Oh shit, something's wrong.

"On they're ways to 4th." I said, sitting down in the chair next to her. "So what's wrong?" I ask looking at her with sincerity and trust in my eyes.

She sighed before answering, "I'm pregnant and it wasn't by choice." I look at the teacher with shock. She was . . . raped? She's pregnant?? Oh god!

"I'm keeping it, I'm against abortion." She said snapping to look over to her. She was scared, used, and pregnant from it. But hadn't I been used? The only difference was I couldn't get pregnant from it. But I still think my life was worse. Because in the end, Mrs. Michelle will see it as a blessing, having a son or daughter regardless of how she got them.

"It will turn out okay in the end, Mrs. Michelle," I said looking at the clock. "I have to go to next class, bye Mrs. Michelle, stay safe." I said to here, walking out the room hurrying to Parenting 101 and trying to get there before the class bell rings. I did in fact make it in time, rushing into the class, and sitting in my desk quickly looking at the board and being shocked at seeing nothing on it. I sit there waiting for Mr. Willson, the Parenting 101 and guidence teacher to explain what were doing today since the board failed to do so.

Mr. Willson walked into the class room, without his usual smile.

"Okay class grab your stuff were going into the little theater." The little theater was where we took our end of the year tests or small tests with other classes.

Confused on what we were doing since obviously it wasn't end of year testing since it was way to early to be doing that, I wondered if it was we were actually going to do.

We walk through the hallway in silence and I see the other explore classes heading to the little theater as well. Oh geez, what is the school planning?

We all walk into the little theater which looks like a theater but with a large stage in the front, which had a lady standing in front of a mircophone, a fake fucking smile on her face. We are seated by class and name and quieted down, as everyone, and I mean everyone was asking each other if they knew what was going on. Well, except me. I knew talking wouldn't help me figure out what was going on since no one else seemed to know either.

I sigh as teachers yelled at students to shut their mouths, and my attention went to the lady standing on the stage. Once everyone was silent, she smiled and tapped the mircophone to see if it was working, and it was.

"Hello tenth grade highschoolers!" She said cheerfully, too cheerfully in my option. That's when I noticed teachers handing out papers to each student, well tiny packets.

When I got my packet, I looked at it. The cover had a few instructions.

I looked up at the lady waiting for her to talk again.

"Okay, so you maybe wondering what the packet that was just handed to you is. It is a assessment about your life, and all answers are kept secret and it is anonymous. You do not need to put your name on this at all, and we encourage you to not."

"You may begin."

When she said that, the sound of fliping filled my ears. I grabbed the packet and opened it and turned to the second page where the questions start.

That's when the check box questions started.

I look down at the next question and think about how stupid this is. This won't do anything.

Oh, shit, here we go into dark territory.

4

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I sigh when I see that I'm done with this damn packet, thank god it was anonymous. I wouldn't have done it the way I did if it was personal.

I flip the packet over and sigh in relief, waiting for the others to finish. I saw one girl looking like she was about to burst into tears and I saw a group of cheerleaders laughing at some of the questions. I bet they've never been raped before.

I doubt it.

I really really doubt they've ever been forcefully thrust into my someone.

I sigh, and look at the lady on the stage. She wasn't smiling anymore, probably because she didn't think anyone was looking at her anymore.

I saw past her faccide. She thought she was everything but she wasn't.

I sigh in relief when we turn the packets in and go back to class because I was sick of the little theater. I was sick of life.

That won't be a issue much longer.