Creative Writing — Oh, So Dreadful!

As I landed my feet onto the cold, hard concrete ground, I almost grimaced at the sight in front of me. The sight that lay before me was too familiar – the empty and dark classrooms on different levels, the corridor that was always busy with students scurrying from one classroom to another. It was suffocating to return to this place after a long, relaxing weekend. The annoying and piercing sound of the bell sounded, and I dragged my heavy legs to my classroom, preparing myself for school, a living hell.

The teacher continued to scribble words and equations onto the dirty whiteboard as I took my thousandth sip of water. Focus, I scolded myself mentally, placing my almost empty bottle onto the floor. I briefly scanned the classroom. My friends were squiggling on their worksheets like there was no tomorrow, while some of my other classmates were already deep asleep with their heavy heads on the table. My teacher seemed too enthusiastic about the lesson to lecture them. I heaved a sigh, rubbing my face in exhaustion as I tried to sit up straighter.

I loathed physical education lessons. I always thought that it was simply a period for us to escape from getting our backside glued on the inflexible grey chair while listening to hours of boring lectures. I also hated that the fierce sun will always glare at us while we were running or playing games. Sweating was the worst part. At the end of the lesson, we were all sweating like a horse and would almost smell as bad as a wet dog.

We strolled into the prison-like classroom after filling our grumbling stomach with light snacks. We headed straight for our own seats, but never stopped chatting. Some of us were shouting across the classroom to communicate with our friends. I was worn out with fatigue, so I did not talk but sat lazily in my seat, listening to the noisy chatters and waves of laughter. I flinched back into reality when the loud clapping sound by my teacher grabbed all of our attention. His expression was as black as medusa. All of us noticed and immediately sank back into our seats silently. “It’s your critical year, and all of you do not seem worried at all,” his rough voice echoed slightly in the pin-drop silence. He scolded us for being immature – wasting time in class by idle talking.

He continued throwing us lectures, emphasising the importance of focusing in class. I watched and noticed how my classmates were bored but kept quiet as they could not be rude. As my teacher continued, however, I found myself listening to whatever he was saying, and found out that he was actually making sense.

School may be a living hell for some of us, but it was necessary for us so that we can grow into better people. Instead of wasting my time, complaining about school being completely useless to us, why not appreciate it and study hard?

Written by: Blondie Tan