The daydreaming problem.

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The daydreaming problem.

“Well” said the head in assembly, “The start of a new school year,” He stood beaming round at everyone in the hot and humid theatre, “At the end of the next year you will be taking your GCSE’s, these will help you enter the profession you wish to take when you leave this school…

“Captain were ready for take off”

“Okay Jones, take her up!” mike replied.

The engines roared and the plane vibrated violently as the heavy boeng 747 lifted up off the ground.

As the plane reached cruising altitude the Captain was disturbed by a voice behind him, “come on Mike time to go to lesson, (pause) Mike!

He felt himself being pushed and pulled violently but he did not respond until lee gave him a playful dig.

“Ouch, what the hell did you do that for?”

By the time he realised where he was he could not stop the words from coming out of his mouth, he was still in the assembly, sitting at the back with All the 270 people in there staring at him, the teachers were looking at him in disbelief, The Head stood, gaping at him, with a look of pure horror on his face, looking like he could of exploded any minute Mike, who had gone bright red, looked at the floor, trying not to catch anybody’s eye, the seconds ticked by like hours until, “Mike Richards, get out!” The voice came from the bottom right corner of the theatre, he did not look to see who had said it, it couldn’t have been the Headmaster, he was still in the Center of the theatre, Still staring.  Mike broke into a run, leaped down the stairs, and out, but he didn’t know where to go, so he decided to go to the year heads office, it was probably him who said it anyway.

Later on he realised why everyone had been so shocked at him, just before he said what he did the head had just announced that he had been informed by the board of directors that 20-30 people from the recently closed St Benedict’s school would be joining their year group.

Mike escaped ‘lightly’ with a week of after-school detentions, and also if he did anything else wrong before the end of term he would be suspended, it would also be written into his report for when he left the school.  Mike was feeling very lonely that week, he had had a massive argument with his mates, for getting him into trouble in the first place, they had refused, saying that he was talking to himself anyway, and had already distracted the attention of half the students there, the sound did not reach the teachers at the front at that time anyway.  Mike did not want to believe any of this, so he had a blazing row, which ended up with them going off and leaving him.  Everyone was now tormenting him, especially when he went to dinner, he would get called names like ‘Billy’ and ‘reject’.  Whenever he did try to go and sit with someone, they would instantly tell him to go away or move to another table themselves.

By the end of that week Mike was fuming.  After four detentions so far, he had one left.  He usually only had to stay behind about half an hour, but he had a feeling Mrs Sheehan ( the year head) would make this a detention to remember.

The detention begun like all the others, but this time he could hear all the other kids talking excitedly of how they would spend their weekend.  Mrs Sheehan was just outside the detention room talking in hushed tones to another teacher he presumed it would be some type of conspiracy against another teacher, he had heard of the teachers ganging up on one another before, while you were in class you would be ‘working’, another one would come in, the whole class would stop working just to listen, they wouldn’t notice, they would just carry on gossiping for most of the lesson, every so often they would glance around with their horrible eagle-like eyes trained on you, their beaky nose crooked, pointing in another direction, if they saw you not working they would give you a nasty look as if to say ‘yes, what do you want?’ all we would do was reply and say ‘I’ve had my hand up for ages!’ There were other, more annoying noises this time though, there was the horrible, deathly, monotonous drone of the clock on the wall, counting down to when he would be released.

Join now!

The prison guards roughly pushed the terrorist back into his cell, he had just put yet another inmate into a coma, this time the board had to put him into solitary, this was the third time it had happened, this time the board had to realise this was no one-off.

The terrorist had been arrested four years before after a disastrous bank robbery, which the IRA had arranged, all he had to do was execute the robbery.  But the police had been tipped off and the SAS were waiting for them, when they got out of their rented Ford Transit, ...

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