Speak Up

This weeks writing challenge asks us to eavesdrop… Write about something we’ve overheard.

As a result of an injury three years ago, I have 30% hearing loss in my left ear, and my right ear has hearing loss as well, although not as marked as my left ear. My point in revealing my medical history is to explain to you, that for me to overhear a conversation, the speakers must be quite loud.

I have had experiences of loud talkers on my bus ride to work, but sadly I’ve exhausted the topic of people loudly discussing their bodily functions, health concerns, and other subjects that really shouldn’t be discussed unless to a physician or priest.

As such, and in my quest to fulfill this weeks challenge, I find myself sitting nearer to strangers than propriety allows, in a futile attempt to listen in on their conversations. I’ve tried backing up into hearing range (my hearing range) of a chatty group, while holding my phone to my ear and pretending to converse with an imaginary friend.

Oddly and coincidently, the conversations I’ve moved in on have ended almost the instant I’ve gotten close enough to hear.

This leaves me no choice, but to write a fictional piece this week. So, I suppose this has been the prologue.

The Story:

I Hate High School

Today is the second day of high school, but my first day. I missed yesterday because I was registered at the wrong school.

Why was I registered the wrong high school? My parents wanted me to go to the technical high school, because they heard there was less drug use at the technical school than the neighborhood school that all my friend (yes, just one) were going to.

I applied, was accepted, and then eventually talked my parents out of that idea. I was a good kid. Why was I being punished for something they thought could possibly happen?

Anyway, I thought this was made clear to both schools. I went to orientation, and got my schedule, but when I went to the first class on the first day of school, I was treated like a spy caught on enemy territory, and sent to the office.

The office told me to go to the Technical High School, and have them give me my transcripts, then bring them back to the school I thought I was already registered at. By the time I accomplished this quest, the first day of school had essentially ended. I was told to come back tomorrow and follow my schedule… The schedule they gave me two weeks ago. Okay, this high school experience already wreaks of bullshit.

So here I am on day two. Everyone else got their bearings yesterday. Today, I am the only one getting lost in the halls, and the only one being singled out by every teacher who has to verify my identity, and ask me why I wasn’t there yesterday. Meantime, the rest of the class listens to my response. I don’t like the fact that attention is drawn to me in every single class. I feel I’m being intentionally humiliated for missing day one.

It’s finally lunch time, and I make my way to the cafeteria. I see all my friend (yes, just one) on the other end of the room. I make my way through the crowd, and have to walk past a group of cute guys to get to my friend. I feel their eyes on me, and as I pass, the best looking one in the group says: “She’d be cute if she wasn’t so fat”.

I hate high school.
The Daily Post
Writing Challenge
This week’s writing challenge revolves around my favorite inspiration: eavesdropping.


5 thoughts on “Speak Up

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