Screeching Creative Writing

The screeching sound of the after lunch bell causes a kind of mayhem as the last of us dump the rest of our distasteful lunch in the trash can. Heading towards the insane hallway, I hear the sounds of feet of all sizes stomping towards the maroon or tan lockers. Overhearing bits and pieces of innumerable pairs of students talking I hear about their morning classes, what they are doing after school, who's dating who, and bountiful other pointless conversations. The sound of Garret's voice cuts into my people listening to him asking what my next class is like he always does, I drift into my people watching zone again noticing if the girls’ garments match or how the jocks joke around. Pointing out someone's terrible choice of clothing and

Giving him a burly hug and a few mumbles about lunch or maybe something totally different, thinking I will never know now, I mumble, “oh well”. My mind is once again wanders to other places and I'm not listening to what he says. Hearing a talk to you later I reply with my own version of it. Turning down the last hallway on the way to class I finally find a moment of half silence, I breathe in a breath of peacefulness. Hearing the last of the students talking on their way to their classes and the last of the locker slams, I reach Old Man’s classroom. During the first week of class this "well seasoned man," who is a teacher started saying that I had grey hair, which I don’t by the way, so in turn I started calling him the Old Man since he has grey hair, he of course is not geriatric at all, he is only 27. Heading over to his classroom so he can ask me his daily question he asks all his students, the question of the day is, what color would I like to cause to disappear entirely if I could. Yellow, I say when he asked why, my reply is that it's a terrible color that is all too bright and is not attractive on the majority of people. Talking about the color of the wall and how that'd be the color he chose to eliminate I head on my way to my