The school bell rang, signaling the end of classes and saying that I felt relieved was an understatement. I quickly began to pack my books as I ignored the teacher at the front of the class rambling on about homework and giving a stiff warning to the people who didn't hand theirs in last time. I sat back and gazed out of the window at the students that poured into the parking lot and the urge to get home grew stronger. I didn't hate school. Infact, I liked it a fair lot. What I didn't like were the people. Especially the righteous, overly social type. The so-called "outgoing" type. No matter what I did to make myself less noticable, they'd always be people who would want to make friends with me. Despite the aloof air that I had around me, I was never bullied and I was grateful that my freedom wasn't tempered with by immature assholes. "Henry," Louis, a friend of mine, called as he laid his hand on my shoulder. "It's time to go." Looking around the class, I realised that only a hand
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