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"But Mom, I don't even wanna TRY going to school today. I feel sick." I complained as I tried to brush my matted hair.
"Oh, if you wanna go home you can call your dad in the office,"  my mom said as she tied my shoe. I had fallen asleep while getting dressed.
Again.
"Well, sounds simple. Walk in, walk out. Easy as pie." I said.
"Ok  smart alec, get your coat on. We're already ten minutes late."

                       at school...

I was standing at the sixth grade door by myself, waiting for my best friend, Bree, to get here on time for once. My friend Brittany came up to me.
"Whoa, Haley, are you wearing a wig?" She asked me.
"Uh, no, why?"
"Your hair looks really poufy."
Ay-ay-ay. I hate my hair sometimes. It gets puffy if I don't brush it enough, up use enough de-tangler, ever since the first grade. I walked away and shove my hair in my hood.
Then came Shannon. Life tip: do NOT tell her who you like. At lunch she'll chase him down the field trying to flick him or shout something like "HALEY WANTS TO SAY HI TO YOU!!!" VERY annoying to all of us, except her. Unfortunately.
Luckily, the first bell finally rang. On the way in I almost got shoved off the steps. Ah, the sweetness of middle school.
In homeroom, my teacher rants about writing. Typical. Not that I don't like it- it gives me time to do my free writing (wink wink)-but when we actually get to the worksheets in language arts, it's so boring. I'm already a good writer! I'll be perfect by the time I'm ready to publish.
Oh, well. I make the most of it by writing a note on a clean page in my notebook and pass it back towards Bree:

                                          I'm bored.

About 16 seconds later, she hands it back with a new line:

                                    Me 2! He won't call on me!

I say:

                                          What do u wanna say? I'm sure not paying attention!

She says:

                                    Ah, I forgot it anyway. And believe me, u aren't missing much.

Normally I would write back, but I was so bored that I couldn't think if something to say. And next hour is math. Hoo-rah.
Thankfully, we only have seven minutes left. At least for these assignments I can use my imagination:

                                'This time, Marks car broke down right there on the highway. The weather was really bad today, and he realized he had no choice but to walk. "GOSH DARN IT!" He yelled as he stepped out of his car, realizing his umbrella was broken. Stupid Jim. He was going to be late for work again, and his boss wouldn't like that at all. He could tell that today wasn't going to be a great day.'

Description
"But Mom, I don't even wanna TRY going to school today. I feel sick." I complained as I tried to brush my matted hair.
"Oh, if you wanna go home you can call your dad in the office,"  my mom said as she tied my shoe. I had fallen asleep while getting dressed.
Again.
"Well, sounds simple. Walk in, walk out. Easy as pie." I said.
"Ok  smart alec, get your coat on. We're already ten minutes late."

                       at school...

I was standing at the sixth grade door by myself, waiting for my best friend, Bree, to get here on time for once. My friend Brittany came up to me.
"Whoa, Haley, are you wearing a wig?" She asked me.
"Uh, no, why?"
"Your hair looks really poufy."
Ay-ay-ay. I hate my hair sometimes. It gets puffy if I don't brush it enough, up use enough de-tangler, ever since the first grade. I walked away and shove my hair in my hood.
Then came Shannon. Life tip: do NOT tell her who you like. At lunch she'll chase him down the field trying to flick him or shout something like "HALEY WANTS TO SAY HI TO YOU!!!" VERY annoying to all of us, except her. Unfortunately.
Luckily, the first bell finally rang. On the way in I almost got shoved off the steps. Ah, the sweetness of middle school.
In homeroom, my teacher rants about writing. Typical. Not that I don't like it- it gives me time to do my free writing (wink wink)-but when we actually get to the worksheets in language arts, it's so boring. I'm already a good writer! I'll be perfect by the time I'm ready to publish.
Oh, well. I make the most of it by writing a note on a clean page in my notebook and pass it back towards Bree:

                                          I'm bored.

About 16 seconds later, she hands it back with a new line:

                                    Me 2! He won't call on me!

I say:

                                          What do u wanna say? I'm sure not paying attention!

She says:

                                    Ah, I forgot it anyway. And believe me, u aren't missing much.

Normally I would write back, but I was so bored that I couldn't think if something to say. And next hour is math. Hoo-rah.
Thankfully, we only have seven minutes left. At least for these assignments I can use my imagination:

                                'This time, Marks car broke down right there on the highway. The weather was really bad today, and he realized he had no choice but to walk. "GOSH DARN IT!" He yelled as he stepped out of his car, realizing his umbrella was broken. Stupid Jim. He was going to be late for work again, and his boss wouldn't like that at all. He could tell that today wasn't going to be a great day.'