The School Of Hell

You walk down the linoleum floors of a cream colored hallway in Trace University, OH. The floors shine with unimaginable bliss, the ceiling, being very high up in an Arch Formation with sky-blue coloring and blots of white puffs scattered in random places make you feel outside, in a happy place and makes you feel instantly better in almost all downers. The cream/beige walls find refuge in between. Your steps screech across the ground very loudly, as if from a demon, pleading to be let free from hell. You turn your head both ways, looking- Just looking- at your surroundings. You pass several doors on your way to your next class, of witch you forget what it is. You swivel you back pack onto one arm reach inside and frantically search for the paper showing your schedule. Your hand feels many crumpled papers, and, finally you pull out the right one, first paper you pulled out, too!

You peer over the paper. It is Friday, So you scan over to the Friday bar.

1st period: Social studies.
2nd period: Language Arts
3rd period: Science
4th period: Study hall
5th period: Lunch
6th period: Spanish
7th period: Arts
8th period: Digital Photography

You realize it's First period and, soon enough, you're on your way to Social Studies.