Last year was the year of many ideas. Some real good and some really, really bad. I thought I had learned my lesson but as always I seem to forget my common sense. My parents had thought that me going to military school would give me decipline and the standing straight posture. Little did they know that I had tried to escape the clutches of Sergeant Wike and his idiotic schooling five days in a row.
I delivered on a blue buss to Ridgewood Military School. As soon as I was getting off the buss there was this muscular woman screaming and cussing at us. Why? I don’t know but evidently she thought she was getting her point across.
“Get your sorry asses in the house!” she said. “You fucking scum bags! You fucking ass whipes!”
So I was going to be part of a very tight family. One where you were caught in the middle of a mind game of you’re always wrong no matter what you say. Fuck this, I thought. I and many others who had no choice in coming here had to take a step into the admissions office.
“New shit for the pavement!” a man had said while looking at the names on his new list.
“Fill out this form with your name, address, phone number and parents names! Do it! Do it now!”
I felt like telling him to fuck off but I thought I’d wait a little while.
“Write that information down! You each have two minutes!”
I was just waiting for that right moment. The moment of cussing this man out.
When we finished with that we were told to hurry up into our “barracks” and make up our “racks”.
I want four inch blah, blah and even gliggily fucks. Yeah, that makes my day feel special.
“You want to be individuals! You want to be fucked up like the rest of your generation! Drop!”
So we did push ups and more push ups and more fucking push ups. I felt like my arms were going to fall off. We also got punishment for one person not making their “rack” right. Because of one person’s little mistake which I thought wasn’t that bad, we all had to something called eight count body buliders. Oh fuck yeah! I love to do those sergeant Wike! You fucking bastard!
This military school thing was trash and it was only my first day. The next day was interesting though. I was the cause of our group’s punishment this time. And the reason why was because of my lock was facing the wrong way.
“You think you’re special! You think you’re so fucking special that you can have your lock turned backwards while everyone else followed my instructions!” Wike said.
“Yes, I am very special,” I said. “I am a human being who makes mistakes and I don’t really give a shit about your retarded revolution of shoving bullshit into everyone’s head.”
Yeah, we got our ass kicked for that. I guess you could say I deserved it but it wasn’t over yet. It was our turn to go into the cafeteria and eat. Damn I was starving. In times like this you would think that the rules do not apply but people love to see other people suffer. We had to wait in line standing straight and staring into the back of someone’s head in front of you. We also had to stay quiet. That didn’t bother me too much but when we got our line moving and we got the chance to serve ourselves there were more rules.
“One serving of each!”
“Fuck you.” I said and piled some of the food on.
And as stupid as this sounds we got punished for something as so stupid as getting more food.
The day after that I leaped over the fence and sprinted like a fucking maniac. No more of this shit. If they wanted me to stay in that school they would have to look for my ass and let me tell you one thing… good luck.
Hmm. I have been reading Burnt1 all the way down to Burnt6. I loved them all!!!!
Interesting