The Equivocators

Chapter 1: The "F" Words (Skylar)

"There are many things I have come to hate about high school; but because of the assignment that was given, I will narrow it down to three specific things. Side note to self: this was much harder than I imagined it to be."

A few students around the room chuckle a little; being the only few to actually be paying attention. Luckily the ones paying attention are the ones that much like me, consider today to be just like any other day of the past four years of our lives. The excitement of it being our last first day of high school hasn't hit yet, and most likely won't at all. However, with the noise level in the room and the back to school selfies being taken in the back of the room, it's clear that not all of us feel the same way. Which for once, seems to be to my advantage. The last thing I need is all 30 pairs of eyes and ears listening to what was supposed to be a personal, non-disclosed rant. Which now will be public knowledge due to Ms. H feeling free to come and snatch my journal off of my desk.

I mean a side note, Skylar? Really? Could I possibly come off any more lame? On top of being the first one done with the morning assignment, I may very well be one of the only ones to have done it at all. Most likely why Ms. H feels the need to read it out loud to the class.

"Ms. H, could you maybe read someone else's." She silences me with a flick of her index finger to her lips, as well as a loud clearing of her throat. A few students slide into their seats while others begin to put away their snapchats and instagrams long enough to listen to her speak. The room quickly quiets down as she continues on; against my wishes.

"Number one on my list goes to none other than the Cafeteria; where hell breaks loose everyday, and no one attempts to reign it back in. Other than Steve of course!" Ms. H has stopped at the front of the room, perching herself against her desk. Her blue snake print clogs have stopped their taunting click-clack long enough to create a moment of silence in the room- most likely to memorialize what little social life I had here at Lafayette, before she continues on. "Poor Steve gets stuck cleaning up the mess that the Hell-Hounds of this school create everyday," I can feel a few glares being cast my way. "Very nice use of analogy Skylar!"

"Ms. H, plea-"she begins once again, this time not even bothering to cutting me off.

"Hell always smells of lysol, bleach; and people's bullshi-, Oh! Sorry kids, wasn't expecting that," her eyes are wide open as she looks at me with shock. Most of my classmates start laughing while a select few are sending glares harder than before.

"Number two," Ms. H raises her voice, trying to bring down the noise level in the classroom. "The limitations. The lack of windows along with freedom to truly express oneself really makes this school feel more like a prison, rather than a place that is meant to help shape us into successful adults. Are our school pictures really just in preparation for the mugshots they believe we all will be taking one day?"
Ms. H lets out a tiny laugh, before quickly trying to hide her smile by continuing on reading . "Mental note: may make a good article! 'A day in jail compared to a day in high school."

"Ms. H, please just stop there!" Sitting up straight in my seat once more, willing to drop to my knees if that's what it takes. Much like the first few times I asked her to stop, she looks up at me briefly, only to look back down and begin once again.

"And last but not least on this short list comes number three: the people." Ms. H looks up at me once again, this time with a weary look on her face, clearly nervous of what could possibly come next: having already called everyone out on their bullshit. However, despite her moment of hesitation, she picks right back up where she left off. "The stupid  social hierarchy that came to be some hundred years ago. The permanent structure that some fool managed to create only to stroke his own ego.
The structure that keeps people like me, people like my friends and those that care about their grades more than their Instagram likes on the very bottom of the food chain."