Day one, here we go again...
Period one, term one: the yearly cycle begins. Return to a plastic seated prison. The sound of pens hurriedly scratching against paper filled the air as a monotonous droning continued for what felt like a century. A glance at the clock, 9:01, 'Only an hour and 59 minutes until break,' it taunted. It was a battle between my brain and eyelids which grew increasingly heavier by the second. 'Stay awake... stay awake...'
But why did I need to stay awake? Why am I even here? I'm a caffeine fuelled zombie copying down information I'll never refer to again. I'm trapped next to people who have never left their sheltered bubble of school, study, repeat and teachers who evidently hate their job as much as I hate their workplace. Really, why am I here?
  My distaste for this place hadn't always existed, no; there was a time long ago when I had enjoyed learning. A time prior to education simply being a memory test and... teachers who didn't know a single thing about what they were teaching.
 The fact tests depended on memory: unchangeable, but the terrible teachers, oh, that could be. Replacement was a roulette: would they be worse, better? It was a gamble worth taking however; waiting for them to hit retiring age *yawn* that would take too long! No, something needed to be done... 
 Formulating a plan proved difficult but finally, it was complete.
Step one: waiting. Patience was never my forte, but 3:15’s sweet call would come soon. Then, it would be time to strike
Students would flood to the buses, eager to embark on a long journey home, and soon staff would do the same. The last to reach their car would be my poor, unfortunate victim.  
They would be lured into a site far from the vision of outsiders. The next step could be decided later.
Whatever that is to be, the conclusion was definite; a bloated corpse being compacted into a bin awaiting an unlucky soul’s discovery.  The process wouldn’t be glamourous, the chance of blood stains on a pristine white shirt close to guarantee, the odds of a broken nail, even higher. It was a worthy cause.
The plan was perfect. Looking up at the clock I saw it... shaking? Everything in my line of vision was shaking… what's going on?

’What do you think you’re doing? Get to your next class!’ Groggily, I woke from a slumped position on an icy desk. 9:56, classroom, empty.

’Shit… sorry sir, it won’t happen again.’
In fear of being sent to the insane asylum, or worse, a school councillor, I rushed to second period hoping sleep talk hadn’t revealed my innermost desires. Damn, it was just a dream but I’d discovered a darker side of myself whose existence I had previously never known… 
Hi lovelies! 
It was 3am when I wrote the story above and I think perhaps you can tell, the lack-of-sleep insanity was kicking in just a little bit! Combined with the need to create a HSC adv eng creative draft... writing messed up stories = my chosen method of procrastination. Now if only I could submit this... somehow I doubt school would be too happy. Next minute, sent to a therapist! Maybe... no

Top: Supre paired with a Cotton On Body bralette, Skirt: Mango, Boots: Rubi, Scarf: Veeko, Laces: Shopjeen

Apologies about the lack of posting: I've recently moved to a new house and the Internet people... total rubbish. Should not get started otherwise *rambles forever*
It's been a whole month and, still not fixed! Find me mooching the free wifi at your nearest shopping centre, or buying the cheapest thing at a cafe + proceeding to sit and use their Internet for the next 10 hours. Boredom struck one day whilst doing this and... hello blog makeover! What do you think of it? 

Fresh posts up real soon, much love (and happy CNY!)
Kris x

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