It was 7:30, another cold morning and I had to go to school. School has always been dull and boring but since I realised that there was something wrong with my new maths teacher Mr Harris, I decided to find out what it was and follow him.
Like every Monday morning I looked out my kitchen window and saw how my maths teacher was making his omelette while correcting our homework. Maths has always been my worst subject and according to my teachers I was very unlikely to pass any sort of exam. Mr Harris hated me as well, which did not make the whole situation any better, but let me get back to where I started. After he finished his breakfast he got into his red mini-cooper which was parked outside his flat. I then ran downstairs, jumped on my bike and cycled to school. On my way there I stopped at my favourite bakery to grab some more breakfast. Like every other day I saw Mr Harris having his coffee with a cigarette in his mouth, rushing to school on his bike. As we both approached school I saw one of my friends and we continued our mission; though she never really agreed with me following him, she still helped me because she knew that something was not going the way it should be.
We entered our class. The first period was maths with Mr Harris. You were able to smell the tobacco from the back of the class, mixed with the aroma of cheap coffee. As we started the topic of algebra once again, I sighed and looked at Mr Harris. Once he had started teaching I realized that he had a big splash of coffee on his pearl white shirt. One of his buttons was missing, his tie was not properly tied and the algebraic equations on his tie did not make it any better. Everyone else started talking about the party last Friday. Laughter echoed throughout the room. Mr Harris was starting to get very angry, he was losing control of the class and he could feel everyone’s attention slipping away. He started quietly, I mean, I could hardly hear him, but he was repeating...
Please join StudyMode to read the full document