Started With High School

Oh god... please not again.
I was just walking through the school's hallways when sir I'm-a-jock-so-I'm-better-than-you Jack decided that it would be lovely to shove me into another locker.
How generous of him! It's not like I have to get to class to prevent myself from getting an F in everything and fail in life and have to live in a box on the streets. Noooo not at all.
''Oh hello fag! Did you enjoy your cutting marathon last night with your non-existent friends?'' He yelled from behind me, surrounded by his bunch of followers who don't know the difference between a cat and a dog.
''Just... just.. leave me alone okay...'' I muttered, hopefully quiet enough for only me to hear.
''What did you say fag boy?'' Jack yelled at me, anger evident in his voice.
Oh shit.
I sped off running in the direction of my next class. Hopefully if I run fast enough then I'll make it without a black eye and a split lip.
Just as I saw the door in front of me I felt a hand on my throat. Oh please no. No no no.
''Got ya emo boy!'' He snapped at me. ''Boys! Hold him still for me!'' He continued on.
His henchmen grabbed my and threw me violently against the lockers, I hit my head on the rough metal and my vision became slightly blurry. Then I felt a fist slam into my stomach again... and again... and again.
After a while of this they let me go and I dropped to the floor clutching my stomach. That's gonna bruise.
This, everybody, is what I go through on a daily basis.
First: hit in the stomach before first period.
Second: made fun of during first and second period.
Third: kicked repeatedly, usually during fourth period. Occasionally in fifth period.
Fourth: Made fun of during lunch.
Then after that it varies slightly.
I walked to my first class, English. Oh joy. Luckily (I think) the first bell hadn't gone yet. So I made it just in time for Mr Foster to begin lecturing us on how interesting paragraphs are. Everyone hates English with Mr Foster, even the nerds believe it or not... probably not.
By eigth period I was generally... broken all over. But luckily this period was music, something I liked.
I sat down somewhere at the back like I usually did andwaited for something to happen.
''Okay class, I have a project for you to do over the next for weeks.'' Mr White said.
We all groaned, no one likes projects. No matter what class it was for.
''I promise that you have a 50% chance of enjoying it. So the project is, in the groups that I have chosen for you to be in, you will write four or more songs and record them in the recording rooms. If possible then make a video to go with it. You have eight weeks. The groups are Thomas, Elliot, Jason, Brett and Rowan. Jess, Eloise, Samantha, Rebecca and Sarah. Ray, Frank, Bob, Mikey and Gerard. Good luck. Get started.'' Mr White said to us all.
I groaned. Anything but having to make music. I can't play an instrument or sing that well.
God dammit.

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