This only ends one way, I thought.
The events of the day flicked through my mind like someone thumbing the corner of an exercise book.
The traffic lights.
The bell and the empty corridors.
The detention before I’d even sat down.
The laughs, the jibes. Her. Why her?
The bell and the lunch queue.
The push. The mess and the scrambling around.
The yelling.
The waiting.
He was shouting at me but I couldn’t hear a word. The guy covered in custard. The prick.
White light now and searing pain. I think my lip has burst.
Blood. Yup. That hurt.
Hey, Listen
Written for Friday Fictioneers. Hosted by Rochelle and image supplied by Lisa Fox this week. Join in and read more stories by clicking this link!

Don’t be shy, leave a reply