in school supension

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: The Hispanola house
based on a true story from the 3rd grade

Submitted: January 21, 2017

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Submitted: January 21, 2017

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“My first thought when I walked in was, I don’t want to be in here with these future criminals.”
 
Well, that was my thought as well as I walked into the room. Of course  I get in trouble because I try to defend my brother. The smell hit me like an axe over my head. It was musty, which was the perfect smell for the room. Very damp, with only one overhead light, flickering away. So this is In-school-suspension.  I thought as I slipped past the desk. 
 
“Joseph?” A slurred voice said. I gulped. Mr. Brown. This man was known around the school as the most intiminating teacher in West Gate K-8. He was an ex-sheriff who still wants to intimidate people beneath himself. Many rumors were around about why he was really here. One such rumor was that the was going undercover to find a vandal that vandalized the side of the school. “Y-yes sir, I am here, S-sir” I stammer. He shoved a pile of work in my arms. “Take table five” he said. The room was so quiet, that evey step I take sounded like a hammer pounding In the hall. I took a seat at table five. All the tables looked exactly the same in terms of the pattern of the wood, or the fact that every desk was seperated from others with a large sheet of plywood. The work took a few hours to complete. Then I took out a large book from my bag. Dragon Rider it said in worn-out letters. I turned to halfway through and fell into the world of reading. Hardly an hour passed before a high-pitched voice sail “Mr. Brown?”
“What?”
“Can I get some water?”
“During seventh period”
“There is no seventh period”
“Excactly” 
Then silence again took his grip on the room. I rolled my eyes and returned to my book. What seemed like an eternity later, the bell ringed. I dashed out of the room at a speed that would have shamed Usain Bolt. I should get out of conflict using other methods I thought, but I pushed the thought. I Was free. But then a new horror graped my chest. 
What would my mom say?


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