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5 minute job, fictional story, Descriptive

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Connor Heeley A five-minute job I want to tell you about the nerve-racking experience that led to me having a successful career at the age of twenty. It happened to me at Cuff Coats secondary school for boys. I hadn't even been there long when it happened, two months in fact. Unlike most of the other boys I was quiet and not very confident. My list of friend's extended to the boundaries of our class witch totted up to about twenty-five and a half. The half came from "Beetroot Billy"; well that's what my so-called "friends" called him. Bill and me were quite friendly out of school but he was kind of weird so it was the cool thing to avoid him at school. So there I was slumped down in my chair, already the novelty of "big school" had worn off. Mr Brennon was teaching our class art. I didn't think much of art really, especially with him "Bad Breath Brennon". Every lesson he would lecture about the different types of Artwork, then he would lose track of time and we wouldn't even get the opportunity to put pencil to paper and draw. I wouldn't mind sitting there doing nothing in any other lesson but Mr Brennon was the most boring teacher I knew, especially with his rusty old monotone voice. ...read more.


The final option was to return to the classroom and risk "Bad Breath Brennon," embarrassing me in front of the whole class for not completing such a simple task. To walk round helplessly wasn't the best option but I still chose it. So a set off outside and to my horror I realised half the school was on their dinner break so immediately I changed my plan and decided I was going to ask the nearest person for directions. The nearest person happened to have a shaven head with his shirt untucked and a pearl white pair of trainers on, even though he probably knew full well that shoes had to be worn and they had to be black. To an innocent mind he looked nice enough, so I approached him and asked " Do you know where about room A43 is, I have been sent on a job by Mr Brennon." The year 11 just smirked and said, "Other side of the school now get lost" he then rapidly walked away. I shouted back to him " where a bouts at the other end of the school". He just shrugged his shoulders and carried on walking." I kept on walking through herds of what looked like flocking sheep trying to get away from the strange boy with a giant painting. ...read more.


An excruciating pain woke me up, my nose felt as if it had been pounded with a twenty-pound sledgehammer. I looked around to see a familiar welcoming face; it was my mum. "Don't worry" my mum said lovingly "that boy has been expelled from school so you wont be seeing him again soon, as for the others they got off lightly, anyway how are you"? I answered back as best as I could struggling to breathe clearly " what happened to the painting". The painting was all I was worried about at that moment. "Mr Brennon has already spoken to me and he says that he will just print another one off " Relief shot through my system as a smile crept upon my face. "Mr Gelb the head teacher of your school has also reason to believe that the phone call Mr Brennon received was actually a prank so basically you were ambushed, anyway you should get some more sleep you need the rest. " "Ok mum thanks for everything," and as quick as a cheetah on steroids I nodded off back to a short but gratified sleep. So that is the story of how my successful career started by converting them old classrooms to "Well Hard Way Beat Bullying Society" This is one of three in the country and we are expanding by the all the time to prevent more traumas happening in the future. ...read more.

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