Bedlam High

Domestic Bliss

Andrew Hemphill — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 14:34:03 +0000

Another day, another rude awakening by my mother. She does it to me every morning- she comes storming in, throws open the curtains and starts shaking me in my bed- as if that’s going to work! However, my mom’s a stickler and she just keeps shaking and shaking until I finally drag myself out of my dreams and back to reality.

A reality filled with confusion, homework and detention.

So there I was, Wednesday morning, day three of my new school life at Bedlam High- and we were out of Frosted Banana Flakes.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

Naturally, I was horrified! What was a growing boy to do without my daily helping of the sugar-coated Frosted Banana Flakes and my extra two spoonfuls of sugar? How was I supposed to unravel this mystery without my morning treat?

Of course, mom had a solution - taking down a box of Healthy Flakes she filled my bowl with boring, dry, brown and surprisingly un-tasty cereal.

I just looked at her with my eyebrows raised but, this being my mother, she just smiled, poured milk on to the disgusting cereal and said: “Enjoy sweetie! They’ll build your bones up nice and strong and give you all the energy you need for a long school day!”
She paused, watching me slowly eat my first bite of the dodgy cereal, “Without getting a detention this time, ok?” She said.
I just nodded- my throat was refusing to swallow the disgusting cereal.

She turned back to the paper, which today had the headline ROBBERY AT INK FACTORY and looked about as exciting as a house brick to me. Of course, the real issue was that the last of the Frosted Banana Flakes had been eaten by none other than my bratty brother, who was grinning around a mouthful of the sugary cereal.

I’ll get him back for this! I thought to myself

Dinnertime at Bedlam High

Andrew Hemphill — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 12:08:44 +0000

Later that day, after suffering the embarrassing ‘welcome’ briefing from my form teacher- Mrs Snood (stupid name.) I ran into Porky and Jenny again.
I’d just gone to the cafeteria, having asked two Prefects and three other kids the way (and been sent the wrong way every time.) I walked into the busy hall and up to the kitchen at the end, joining the seemingly mile-long line to get my plastic meal tray filled with the delicacy of the day.
I’d been in the line for about 10 minutes when a girl pushed in front of me, dragging three of her friends along and forcing me backwards.
“HEY!” I said, feeling my temper flare in my chest, “BACK OF THE LINE!”
The girl turned and looked at me like I was a piece of meat, snorted through her unusually long nose and turned away. I was about to say something else to the snooty girl when I felt a hand on my shoulder and I heard Jenny’s soft voice whisper in my ear: “Don’t bother, that’s Lucy Donaldson, she’s a Prefect and she’s trouble!”
I took Jenny’s advice and decided then and there that we were going to become very good friends.

Having literally run into Porky, sending the larger boy stumbling- but without him dropping any of the mysterious greyish gloop the dinner ladies had served today- we were all sat at the circular tables that were set up in the main hall for lunch, getting to know each other.

I’d spread out the map of the school Mrs Snood had given me on the table and was trying to figure out where I was supposed to be next, while I listened to Jenny and Porky talk about their histories.
From what I could tell, I was supposed to go to the changing rooms in S Block for my next lesson- Physical Education.

“I’m an only child,” Porky was saying, busily slopping his food into his mouth, “But I’m not spoilt or anything. Oh and I like food and I’m not a big fan of exercise, but I want to be a professional football player some day!”
Not unless you loose some weight first, I thought to myself, eyeing the massive amounts of the goo he was shovelling into his mouth.

An excerpt from the first chapter:

Andrew Hemphill — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 21:25:09 +0000

I met Porky on my very first day at Bedlam, oops, sorry, Beedlam High. We call it Bedlam because everyone spends most of their time running around or escaping from the bullies. What’s worse is if you get caught by the Prefects- a bunch of stuck up and brown-nosing senior pupils who are obsessed with authority (and beating up little kids in the first year- like me.)

The other reason we call it ‘Bedlam’ is because the school sign has been vandalised, reducing ‘Beedlam Secondary School’ to Bedlamkissmybutt2009School,’ but I’m told the kids thought that was too long, so they just stuck with ‘Bedlam.’
Anyway, I was just walking through the school gates, clutching my (perhaps a little childish) Hank Strongarm lunchbox, when my mum beeped the horn of our minivan so, naturally, I turned around to look at her and walked straight into what seemed to be a wall of flesh.
Tuning back to look up at the towering blob of a boy, I realised I couldn’t see his face because his huge stomach was in the way! All I could see were his clenched fists- BIG clenched fists- I wanted to run but the boy had me by my shirt collar, I looked to my mum for help but she just waved and said “See, you’ve made friends already, I told you you’d be fine, Bye darling!” and drove off!

My little brother, who was on his way to his first day at Beedlam Primary, gave me a thumbs up as the minivan crested the hill, but he had an evil smile on his face - he had noticed my…er… little problem.

I was shaking with fear; my lunchbox fell from my limp hands as the boy leaned forward, snarling!
Well, not snarling, smiling really.
“Are you alright?” The giant boy asked in a tiny, girly voice, his moon face all red from the embarrassment of me walking into him.

Since I was still terrified of the huge boy I just yelled: “Please don’t hurt me,” and flailed around with my arms like a fly stuck in a spider’s web. Of course, I know now that Sam ‘Porky’ Miller would never do anything like that; he was a giant- but a friendly one.