Note:
The names have been slightly altered to avoid recognition:
Students from regular school | Student from summer school |
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I was in a large, dimly-lit room, and apparently that was my summer school class because my summer school teacher was giving back an assignment that we did a long time ago (in summer school), involving some kind of artwork. She called the students' names one by one, and after a while I finally heard my name, so I got up and took my assignment.
I looked at my mark... a seven out of ten! I was furious, because once again my teacher was giving lower-than-I-deserve marks. Nevertheless, I wasn't that angry because the others probably did worse than me. So I started to go around and ask for (or peek at) other people's marks.
I don't remember how many people's marks I saw. However, I do remember seeing the marks of two students— Nathan and Anton. They were both students in my day school that weren't very intelligent, but they got 80% and 86% respectively! Also, from what I remember, one or two other students got 92.5%.
Now I was actually furious, for my mark was bad even after compared to the rest of the class! Out of anger, I tore out a portion of my assignment. Then, I noticed that by accident, I had also torn out a portion of another student's, Joanna's, assignment.
Fearing some negative consequences, I quickly returned to my seat, which apparently was far away from where we got our assignments back. I don't remember what I did then.
After about five minutes, almost everyone was in their seat. And suddenly, the teacher came with Joanna, who was crying. The teacher looked very solemn and asked us whether we knew who ruined her assignment. I wanted to confess, but not in front of all the other students, so I pretended that I knew nothing. Surprisingly, this time my façade looked very natural and she didn't spy anything wrong!
Then, I heard Anton whispering to Ginny, who was sitting besides me. Apparently Anton saw me ripping Joanna's assignment and he was telling Ginny! What a ***, Anton! Ginny looked at me in a disgusted look, and I quickly assured her that I would confess and apologize to Joanna after school was after.
Soon, school was over, and for some reason I had to go to the library first. So I went there. Suddenly, I saw Ginny running towards me—apparently she thought that I was going to secretly run away and wanted to ensure that I didn't. Oh, just to mention, Ginny was this kind of person in day school, who had her fingers in too many pies.
I think I had a fierce argument with Ginny, telling her that if I were to run away, I would not be in the library. However, she wasn't entirely convinced, so she decided to follow me to the classroom.
I went into the classroom, and she was finally convinced that I would confess and apologize, so she left.
After Ginny left, it was time for me to confess and apologize. However, I wanted to ask the teacher to increase my mark first, for clearly the teacher wouldn't give me any extra marks if she knew that it was me who had ruined Joanna's assignment. So I asked for the rubric (my teacher never gave us any) to see what I could say to let her increase my mark.
After looking at my assignment and comparing it to the rubric, I realized that I did make a lot of mistakes. For example, I didn't write my school name (it was a requirement) and somehow many of my Os were capitalized even though they were supposed to be in lower case. Nevertheless, I went to the teacher and asked her to increase my marks.
"What was your mark?" she asked.
I showed her my mark. Then, as if surprised, she said, "No, that wouldn't affect your overall mark at all!"
"If this mark wouldn't," I asked doubtfully, "then what kind of mark will?"
"A nine or ten percent would," she answered.
I don't remember what happened next, but I did remember going out of her office and complaining to a day-school-friend of mine, Kris. I remember talking about how I had always been good at art and how I have never gotten more than 85% from this *** teacher.
Suddenly, I remembered that I still had to tell my teacher about the incident, so I went into her office once again and told her about it. Surprisingly, she didn't seem particularly angry— all she said was that I needed to attend some sort of special class for anger-management.
There may have been one or two more events after, but this is all that I can remember from the dream
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