1/3.4Bill: The Librarian Part 1.

It all started at break-time, we  knew it was coming; the rush of about 230 hungry students stampeding through the corridors for 50 bacon sandwiches  Seems crazy right? But when you’re hungry you’re hungry. And bacon is bacon. We joined the stampede, trampling the younger Year 7’s below  and sweeping the savage Yr. 10’s behind us. We dashed through the corridors and into the canteen ahead of the rest. I looked around for my two friends, and we smiled at each other because we were in the front of the line.


The next obstacle was finding somewhere to sit down. The canteen wasn’t an option; there was a whining, snotty child infestation everywhere, and no seats were available anyway. We didn’t want to go outside. It was just that time of year where it was nippy outdoors, the type of cold that gradually crept into your fingers, and stung your toes. We settled for the door outside of the library; not the warmest place, but the quietest. We shuffled onto a neglected table, and warmed out fingers with our soft white bacon buns. Just about to take the first bite when she pounced…

A reasonably short woman  with a button nose, surrounded by a rounded face and pushed up mouth.She had a pudgy tummy, with rolls of barley visible fat, and small little piggy fingers, which liked to jab dramatically  at the air  when she shouted. Which was a lot. The Librarian.”GET OUT NOW!”, she shrieked. Our heads snapped to attention, at the shrill scream that had pierced the air. We looked at her, then at each other and realized she was talking to us. Not wanting a conflict, I walked slowly towards the door, with my friend, while the other friend put her belongings back in her bag. “DID YOU HEAR ME?”, she rasped, her beady eyes narrowed, selecting a suitable target. It was my friend.

“YOU’RE NOT PACKING AWAY FAST ENOUGH”, she cried maliciously, her words picking up speed, from the obvious rush she was getting out of having complete control. “I’m going Miss, I’m Going”, said my friend hurriedly, frantically trying to cram her belongings back into her school bag.

“YOUR HEAD OF YEAR SAYS IF YOU DON’T PACK AWAY FAST ENOUGH I CAN REPORT YOU”, she sang in a deranged voice, and with that she darted into the corridors, screaming for our Head of Year. We stared at each-other in disbelief.



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