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A childhood tale

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A childhood tale School life at St. Anne's was a painful experience for me. My teacher was a terrifyingly tall woman with inch long scarlet talons. The facial expressions she usually displayed in my presence implied that her dearest wish was to scratch my eyes out with these weapons. The other students had shunned me after I bit a boy called Ashton for trying to take my toy mouse and the teachers had categorized me as disruptive. After a puzzled time when they kept taking my scissors and patting me on the head I realised I was also thought of as mentally disabled. Later I was told this was because on the first word of my entrance exam I spelt 'street' with a 'W'. With the students all glaring at me from corners I resorted to the one resource I had left to me-books. The teachers were under the impression that I couldn't read a word so assumed I was plotting something. ...read more.


I had never been allowed near this room; in fact no student was given permission to enter until at least the fourth year. That was where I could read. That was where they couldn't steal my pleasure. That was where I was going. It was the easiest thing in the world for a small child to slip into the office in the bustle of four hundred students exiting the hall for their various classrooms. Some how the key found its way off its hook and into my pocket. Silently, ever so silently I crept back pass the buzzing lessons, glancing round every corner for the imaginary jailer that awaited. My heat fluttered like a giddy butterfly and I jumped at every slight noise. Finally the door came into slight; I ran the last few steps to it, twisted the key in the lock slipped through and slammed it behind me, a wall of protection from my enemies. ...read more.


I screamed. It seemed like I spent ages inside my prison before the teachers, firstly noticed I was missing, and secondly found out where I was. In that time I had mastered the courage to explore the room through a touch-based investigation. It was the most frustrating thing in the world, however, when my fingers finally caressed the spines of the books I had been searching for. There were so many, and yet not a one could I read, enclosed as I was in shadow. I must say though, it wasn't a completely wasted expedition. As the school searched the corners of the earth for me, the police and my mother were called. I was over the moon to be graced with the privileged of wearing a real policeman's hat, and my mother blamed the school for this entire incident so it wasn't long before I got moved on. I never got back the books that woman took off me but the St. Anne's school copy of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' still dwells happily on a shelf of mine with a key kept safely inside the front page. ...read more.

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