The sky is as cloudy as I feel. The sky is as grey as my mood. If you couldn’t tell the end of a school year isn’t exactly a good time for me. With my face pressed up the glass you’d think I’d want to leave. I’m just brooding. The hell I have to endure here is nothing compared to what I’m going home to. Cue feeling sorry for me.
At any moment my parents car will pull up. My waiting reflects no enthusiasm – there’s nothing else to do. Classes ended yesterday otherwise you’d see me in math class running circles around everyone else. At this moment you’ll find me on the top floor of a school that would leave you to believe that super heroes are trained here.
Xavier Preparatory School for Higher Learning.