Satire Essay On High School Students

Loser, Hand Me Down, Cheap Shot, Rat, That Guy, Nerd. Kids throw names at me faster than lightning strikes trees. A good student can be another’s nightmare. Anyway, my life is a snow storm, people melting me down to puddles and others building me up. I had friends once. Now, here I am wishing on every wishbone for a true friend.

“Hurry up kiddo, the bus will be here in three minutes,” Mom said.

“What ever,” I mumbled. I hate school, well not exactly. The teachers are nice and all but the kids are evil. The school bus to me is just another opening for kids to call me names and talk about me behind my back. Mom is always telling me, “Be yourself and don’t let others change that.” That’s like telling a bullfighter to hold not move,

Nelson said had caught me off guard just like yesterday… and the day before.

“What? Oh here,” I uttered. Sometimes I’m so tired, it’s hard to feel like participating. Especially in math. All it is is a plus b and some other boring things. Mrs. Nelson is always all cheerful and talking about how great math is, and how much it matters in your life. That’s asking a lot from a kid. Each day teachers say their class is the most important, and that you should listen and study hard. It gets confusing just like the other eighteen things about school, which class you should try the hardest at and what classes don’t matter one bit.

I entered in my locker code and grabbed my superman lunchbox from 3rd grade. It’s funny how in elementary you are so cool if you have a character lunch box, but in middle school if you have one, you 're then the awkward guy.

“Hey Justin, what’s up!” Tom shouted from across the lunchroom. Everyone turned and looked at me and my lunchbox. The cafeteria exploded in laughter, a couple kids pointed at me, and others whispered to their friends. My chances of being liked were lost along with all my hope. Every time someone will look at me they will see the guy with the lunch box, not the kind and athletic