Mafia Slashy Goodness (WIP)

 

            Another day, another dose of school. The posh private high school looks like a palace, but the people inside are jerks. The students are all privileged snobs who would rather sneer at you than help if you happen to fall, and the teachers are bitter old prunes that wish they were in the students’ shoes. Well, except Ms. Jackson, who thinks that she is one of the students. I swear she gets Botox every week, and let’s not mention the pound of makeup not hiding that sagging, shriveled skin.

            Yeah, I’m bitter, but it’s true. I’m not lying to make myself feel better about failing that last exam. Trigonometry is just not my forte. I mean, I’m not dumb or anything, I just can’t do all that sine and cosine crap. And what’s with those little dances she does, with the claps and the jumping around? Those are just equations, you used teabag! Stop trying to dance like a constipated baboon!

            “Eyes front, Mr. Rossi. We wouldn’t want to have to have another parent-teacher conference, now do we?”

            Yeah right, bitch. Like you didn’t spend the entire thirty minutes hitting on my father. Not that he notice you, he was too busy checking on his stocks. So shut your trap and go back to teaching, you old douche. Go fuck yourself.

            Of course, the good boy they all know and love would never say that. So instead I smiled sweetly and turned my face down to the antique wood, all docile like a lamb. Well, better watch out, world, cause this lamb’s got fangs. And claws. Cause I ain’t no sheep, I’m a predator. (Not that type of predator, you pervert!)