FicWad

I hate school. More than you could imagine. Everywhere I go there’s always someone there to torment me. Mainly in school. As you can tell, I’m the kind of person that’s always alone in school. I’m either completely ignored or picked on.

I look at my timetable, even though there wasn’t any point; I knew it off by heart. Art. We’re starting a new project in a few days. We have to draw and paint someone we know. I’ve not got anyone to draw, of course, because I haven’t got any friends at all. Our last project was to draw something you love, so I drew my guitar. That reminds me, I still haven’t handed it in. Someone drew a single musical note, I thought it was a good idea but it looked far too easy. I like to challenge myself in things like art and music.

I push my way through the over-crowded corridor and tried not to choke on the sickly mixture of smells in the air. Cheap deodorant and sweat was never a good combination. I found my way to the art room; the only art room.

I opened the door to find it in its usual state. Singular tables lined up, going toward the back of the class, five or six students scattered around the room and Mrs Synnuck sat at her desk, doodling away and waiting for her usual students to arrive, she had learnt to only expect a few people to art class and started the lesson after all of her regulars had seated. She looked up at the sound of me closing the door behind me.

“Ah, Frank. You’re here.” She says with a smile. She waits for me to sit down and is about to say her oh-so-famous line, ‘Right, Welcome class. Are we ready to create?’ But today, she didn’t. Because she was cut off by the sound of the heavy wooden room slamming carelessly to the wall. Everyone looked up in shock at the dark figure at the door.

Uhg.

What’s he doing here?

Gerard runs a hand through his ebony hair and looks over to me, nodding slightly in my direction. I look away in annoyance. Mrs Synnuck asked him to take a seat, as he did so, she closed the door. He had to sit right behind me, didn’t he? She asked him for his name.

“Gerard.” He answered in a low voice.

“Right, Gerard. Welcome to art. I presume you’re new to school?” She said, knowing no-one ever came to art class unless they were new; most left after their first lesson. Or unless they actually liked art. Gerard nodded and started picking at the wood on the graffitied table.

“Today, we’re going to plan our next project. The project is to draw a profile of someone you know. Now, does anyone know who they’re drawing yet?” Mrs Synnuck said and six arms had risen. She looked over to me. “Don’t you have anyone to draw, Frank?” She asked.

“I haven’t really thought about it.” I mumble and she moves onto Gerard.

“You can draw anyone you know, Mum, Dad, Siblings, friends, anyone. Okay?” She asked, Gerard gave a quick nod. “Any idea of who you’re drawing?” She continued to pester him. He shook his head. I would’ve presumed he would say Mikey, his brother. “Have a little think then.” She says, smiling and turning to the rest of the class to start the lesson.

Mrs Synnuck announced that we’re going to begin our project in the next art lesson then complete it for homework. The lesson ended quickly and everyone scuttled out of the room, aside from me and Gerard, who was scrawling something into a notepad. I stood and went over to Mrs Synnuck’s desk and pulled out my previous project. “Ah Frank.” She said. “Thank you, I thought you had forgotten.” He flashed a smile as I handed it over to her. Suddenly, Gerard was at the door, looking back at me. I immediately looked away.

Mrs Synnuck had unfolded the paper and was looking at the painting adorningly. “Wow, Frank.” She said as Gerard wandered over. What does this guy want?! He stood behind the desk, beside Mrs Synnuck, looking at the drawing of my guitar. He looked up at me.
“You drew this, Frank?” He asked.

“Uh. Yeah.” I say, numbly. He scoffed and walked away, out into the corridor full of stupid, filthy people. Who does that idiot think he is?! Synnuck hadn't heard Gerard, I’m not surprised, she’s as deaf as a bat. “It’s good.” She says simply and places it on her desk. “See you next lesson.” She grins and I trudge out of the room and almost immediately, everything goes black.