Homework, almost universally dreaded
Students, Given short periods of time,
They are exhausted, yet expected to produce high standards of topics crammed into theirs minds
Dance, soccer, martial arts,
Why aren’t we encouraged to persue our passions in our free time
Instead we a pushed to write a reflection each week
Almost Always about a topic that to most is bleak
Now I’m not saying stop it all in general
But you can always look at how Finland’s doing
To me they seem just fine
And in my humble opinion thats how we get students to shine
We had safely escaped the government facility. All 15 people safe and rested. Our group, a group of seemingly average people, made it out. Our screams as we sprinted down the long white corridors. The black badged guards chasing us. With the punishment of death on the table forfeiting was not an option. When we got back to the central city we would have to hide in plain sight. That was until we realised that we seemed to be on televisions all around the country. Our supposedly perfect plan was now far from plausible and our chances of success now halved we were disheartened.
Bricks Gorilla Yellow Running Pretty
It was the night of graduation, and like all the other petty school girls I had gotten a dress. It was yellow with a mint green floral print. I remember running into the graduation hall with a huge grin on my face. Greeting me was Ella halls the annoying rich kid, ‘ Where did you get your dress, target, anyway I don’t speak to gorilas, bye love’
My heart sank, the feeling of pretty suddenly gone, I ran into the bathroom stalls staring at the dark blue brick hoping no one would come and find me.
She was lucky not to be executed, how dare one slyly disregard my authority. I remember her look of terror as slave 372 slipped on the white metal cuffs, it gave me pleasure watching the bloody marks the cuffs left, her pale hands fumbling.
She was oblivious to my position as leader and obviously did not respect my status.
‘Clean my desk,’ I roared.
’Why,’ her pale blue eyes confused.
’BECAUSE I SAID SO!’, my eyes filled with rage.
Shaking my head in disbelief I beckoned gaurds ordering the rest of her youth and mature life to be a mute slave.
I looked at the lavishly decorated shop, with elegant silk curtains and stocked with antique toys, barbies and plush stuffed animals, …it reminded me of a time when having ornate figurines and toys was the norm. Now these are deemed As useless fragments of sentiment. It reminded me of a time when having money to afford these things was the majority. I scanned the hazelnut brown shelves fantizing about one day posseing one. The loud buzz of the floaters hovering along the road snapping me back into my simple little reality.
Goal- to mirror my beginning and ending
The grip, as they call it was a particularly brutal punishment , it would beat your skin raw leaving bruises and scars. The rope stained with crimson blood constantly moving and vibrating. Tears glazed the victims eyes . You stood motionless as though you where a brass statue, perfectly still with the rope rubbing and moving, your tears staying pearched perfectly underneath your eye. The guards watching with a smirk, the public chanting as the guards push them back onto the narrow pavement. You throat dry from you constantly trying to scream. The grip as they call it was a particularly brutal punishment.
Goal- to use description well
As I rode the crowded school bus home, I cought sight of my mum at the door in a baggy pair of lightly washed overalls, a garment she’d never wore due to their light tone and not suiting her formal aesthetic . I leaped out’ve the school bus and down the pavement. She was holding two small paint tins, one a periwinkle blue another a lime green. She was mid sentence, speaking to my dad,
‘But what colour should it be?’ She picked up a plastic bag and unwrapped a paint brush, I tossed my bag to the side, and picked up the brush, it’s bristles fresh.
Goal- to experiment with new tone
I can’t believe he’d do that, we’d been together for 3 weeks and out’ve nowhere he decides that I’m not the one, says that I’m too much of a petty princess, how dare he. I slip on my fluffy pink slides and stroll down the stairs, my mascara smudged from the constant rubbing of my eyes, from the river of tears I created. I head into the kitchen and try to cook myself some 2 minute noodles, too nervous to attempt to make anything else. I stuff the bland rubbery strands into my mouth getting smudges of crimson lipstick on them.
I knew this letter was coming, it would determine the fate of my friendship. It was the precious and invaluable results of my high school application. As slowly peeled open the envelope and unfolded the precious slip of paper, as I read the contents of the letter I was aware of the smile on my face. I had gotten in along with all my other friends, I couldn’t be more happy. It was my dream school, elegant gates, large patches of grass. This was seemingly the best day of my life.
I was young and dumb and didn’t realise the consequences that they had put in place due to the new world order. The new world order ensured that only ther rich, smart of powerful could have any freedom. But of course I simply couldn’t comprehend with their simple rules. We where extremely weathy before the order which meant we had a very high position . We had a powerful status but along with it was going along with their horrible plans. I had to act out and put my whole family in jeopardy, why would I do that?