A Common Student’s Lament
Written by Rensis Schmitt

Yawning I doodled crosses and 'X's on my arm. I looked up from my masterpiece. The teacher was still spilling his heart out onto the black board. For a moment I forget what class I occupied. Ah yes. The wall to wall books reminded me. English. Of all the time I wasted in this room, I never felt the urge to pick one of them up. Lazy I guess. 
My eyes wandered to the teachers chair as he sat down. It looked so much more comfortable than my red chair made out of a hybrid of plastic and god-knows-what. 
I almost went back to my art, but I was interrupted. 
"Mr. Benjamin? Do you wish to enlighten us as to why Gene did what he did to Phineus?" the mans gruff voice rang out at me, making me jump.
"Um... he wanted his lunch money?" I answered, innocently. I had no idea what a Phineus was and he knew it. He stood up and approached my desk. 
"Fancy yourself a tattoo artist?" he inquired tapping my arm playfully. 
"Well... no." 
"Then pay attention to me, and not to ink poisoning yourself." he snapped returning to the board. I let out a sigh of contempt. My eyes darted to the clock. Twenty minutes? I'll never make it! My eyes wandered again, this time to a poster on the wall. "Knowledge is power." Power to what? Crash and burn with expirience? Wonder how many more of those things are in here? I looked behind me. "You can do anything!" Lies. No I can't. I can't leave. A laugh almost escaped my lips.
"Mr. Benjamin? Hello?" I jolted around and there he stood before me again. 
"Bored are we?" he asked beaming down at me.
"Um... Yes?" he frowned. "I mean no! Did I say yes? I meant no." I quickly added. 
"It's alright" he looked like he was holding back a smile "you’re excused." 
"I am?"
"Why yes! And do you know where you're excused to?" he sneered folding his hands pleasantly under his bearded chin.
"No... Where?" I asked excited at the thought of escape.
"To the janitor’s room!" the class began to snicker. "To fetch some help. While you were daydreaming Tim there behind you poured orange juice on your shoes." pointing he began to laugh.
I looked to Tim, then my feet. It was no joke, I watched as the liquid just started to seep through the material. I looked to the perpetrator one more time. He broke out laughing, pointing at me and my soaked feet. Damn. What a day. Four minutes left.