Ficlets

Garland High School Hazing 101

I couldn’t believe it. It was finally my first day of high school. I’d waited 5 years, ever since my sister had entered it and declared every night how much of a blast it was. She was gone, now, away at college. But here I was, school supplies and all. I couldn’t find my first period, so I had had a junior’s help. She scoffed at me, and, as she walked away, she said, “Just don’t get locked in the fishbowl, fishie.” I had only barely wondered what she meant. Now, though, staring at the map, I had to face the facts:
1) There were only 2 minutes left until I was officially late for class.
2) I was on the wrong side of the building.
In one of the long, narrow hallways, I spotted a courtyard smack dab in the middle of the school. Several other freshmen were sitting on its benches. I opened the door and went to the other side, the other door.
It was locked.
So, I went back to the one I came in from.
It was locked too.
“Don’t bother,” said a freshmen. “You’re already in the fishbowl.”

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