Anna Fletcher

School: Banchory Academy, Aberdeenshire

An Account of the New Kid


Imposing white harled block, impenetrable I hope

Alas I am led in, given up by a loved one no less

Hostile grey mass, searching eyes

United by their prior knowledge and my ignorance of all things important

Bespectacled help, too busy to smile and I’m left alone, surrounded

The ceaseless hum of cliques voiced within veils of silence

Dramatized smiles hide cruel intentions

Conceptualization of the unfamiliar begins

Enlisted on the mission for success

Trained to be intelligent, forced to be malicious 

All essence of comfort is lost in this cement block institution

As I waste away in my own charade of apathy

The monotonous ticking of time seems to last for eternity

Till the shrill shriek of the bell

Usernames traded, a night of venturing

Into a new virtual hunting ground

My expected confrontation with the question,

“So, darling, how was your first day?”

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