'The New Kid'

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The ugly building loomed up ahead like the evil castle in one of those kids’ books. It was all grey stone and concrete slabs like an old block of flats, and even the ragged flag flying seemed to be tugging at its pole as if it too wanted to get away. As the car pulled up outside I half expected there to be a clap of thunder and lightning to flash around the building. But the skies remained annoyingly clear and bright, a sheer contrast to my current mood. I read the battered sign through my window and groaned.
'St. Peter’s Roman Catholic School'
“Jack, this was the only school that would take you on with your record, and it’s very kind of them to take you on at such short notice. If you hadn’t been expelled from two other schools, maybe Belleville High wouldn’t have turned you down.” I went back to gazing out the window glumly. All my friends had gone to Belleville High.  No one went to Catholic school. I wouldn’t know anyone. She saw the look on my face and sighed. “Look, just be good and try to act Catholic.” I didn’t bother correcting her; there was no use. I had told her time after time that you did not have to be a Catholic to go to Catholic school, but she was convinced that you did. And how exactly do you act like a Catholic anyway? Did she think all the kids walked around praying or something? I rolled my eyes and reached for the door handle. “I’ll pick you up at four.” I clambered out of the car and tossed my bag over my shoulder. “I can walk home.” “I know you can, but I’m picking you up,” she said as she simply smiled and waved as she drove away. I wandered around the corridors for a while before I finally found my way to the head’s office. “Can I help you?” someone asked me. It was a young blonde woman, sorting through sheets of paper. “Er… yeah, I’m Jack Ferguson. I’m new,” I told her. “Right. Hang on a minute.” She went over to a computer in the corner and tapped a few keys. “What was your name again?” Feeling slightly putout, I replied “Jack Ferguson”. “Right. Here is your timetable, and I have written your locker number on the back. Right now, you should be in… maths. That’ll be with Mr Gallop over in M3.” As if that answered everything, she gave a small nod and pushed the timetable into my hand, then went back to staring at the computer screen. I stayed where I was and she glanced up. “That way,” she added, pointing down the corridor with a forced smile. I wandered around hopelessly; most of the classrooms didn’t even seem to have room numbers. I looked up to find a teacher staring at me. He was old, with dark hair and an expression that suggested he also wasn’t too pleased to see me. “I’m new,” I told him, “and I’m sort of lost.” “Where are you trying to get to?” he snapped. “M3 with Mr... Gallop?” He sighed and strode off, jerking his head in my direction. “Come with me! It‘s on the other side of the school!” He may have been a complete freak, but at least he took me to the right classroom.  Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the door and went in.

Instantly everyone went quiet and all eyes were on me. I looked down, feeling uncomfortable. I hate the way everyone always stares at the new kid. “Ah, you must be Jack,” the teacher said, giving me a bland smile but not managing to hide the look of distaste on his face as he looked me up and down. It was only then that I realised all the other kids were wearing some kind of uniform. White button-down shirts, grey trousers, ties? No wonder all the kids were staring. There they all sat, identical in their neat little uniforms, while I was stood there in ripped jeans, a band shirt and my worn skate shoes. I blushed and looked around quickly, trying to find a free seat. There was one near the front next to a girl with long, curly blonde hair, but from the look of contempt she was giving me, I got the feeling I really was not welcome there. There was another over by the window, but it was next to a really fat guy who was taking up most of the other desk too. I cast my eyes around in desperation and saw a free place right at the back, next to a dark-haired boy who was sitting with his head bowed so that his hair hung down and hid his face. I decided that was my safest option and walked over to him, trying my best to ignore the stares, and sat down in the place next to his. It was only then that I noticed what he was doing. He was painstakingly carving something into the desk using a switchblade. Suddenly one of the other free desks looked very tempting. I was just about to come up with some story about my chair being broken so that I could move places when Psycho Knife Guy finished his carving, looked up and seemed to notice me for the first time. “Hey,” he said, giving me a friendly smile. “You’re the new kid, right? I’m Alex.” I nearly fell off my chair in surprise. The first friendly words I had heard all day, and they came from a complete psycho. “I’m Jack,” I replied. He noticed me eyeing his switchblade and laughed, flipping the blade away with all the ease of an expert. “Aren’t those kind of… illegal in school?”
He shrugged, shaking his dark hair out of his face. He moved his bag over so that I could see. Carved into the table-top were the words:
“Embrace your inner darkness and listen to my words,
Because mutilation is such a beautiful word,
Close your eyes, load your guns and give up never,
For perfection is only relative but revenge is forever.”
He really had me freaked out now. PSYCHO!
The day went on, not getting any better, until finally, the last bell of the day rang. Thank God! I glared at my mum and slammed the car door, throwing my bag to the floor. I crossed my arms and stared out the window, hoping that if I death-stared the school for long enough it would fall down, or explode, or something.  “How was it then?” Mum said in a happy tone. “Well. First, I had gotten weird looks and cruel comments all day on the way I dressed. I guess good little Catholics boys do not tend to dress like me. I hadn’t had a clue what was going on in any of my classes, and the math teacher apparently had a seating plan so now I was stuck next to
him every lesson. At lunch, I had had to sit on my own because no one wanted me at their table. Finally, in P.E., I hadn’t been picked for any of the teams even though I’m good at sport. And I can’t find my locker. And they wear some weird school uniform here. The teachers say I have to get it ASAP,” I said. “Oh yes, someone called me about that. I’ve ordered you the uniform so it should arrive soon. Have you made any friends?” my mum asked brightly, as we pulled up at some traffic lights. Before I had time to make a smart remark, I heard a familiar voice calling my name and my heart sank. “Hey! Jack!” It was the psycho knife guy. I slid further down my seat and prayed for the lights to change. “That boy there’s calling you, Jack,” my mum said. Giving up, I sat up and slid the window down; flashing him what I hoped was a friendly smile. “Hey, you’re on your way home? You must live pretty near me!” Please, no. “I live in Smith‘s Road,” he said. “How about you?” You have to be kidding me. There is no way that weird kid lives down the same road as me… Just then, the lights changed. Silently thanking God, I him a small wave. Luckily, he didn’t seem to realise that I hadn’t answered his question. “Well, it can’t have been all that bad if you’ve made a friend already,” my mum said cheerfully as we drove away.

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The school days passed, 3 weeks had gone. It hadn’t got any better, but at least mum was letting me walk there and back on my own now. “Hey, midget, your shoelace is untied.” Without thinking, I looked down and in the time it took me to realise that my shoelaces were tied, the year 11 knocked my books from my arms and walked away with his friends, laughing. Swearing under my breath, I crouched down and started gathering them all up again. “I can’t believe you fell for that old trick.” I groaned inwardly, recognising the voice. Not ...

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