Just An Average Teenager

Okay, so today my friends and I went for a walk to my old elementary school to take a break from homework. (Yeah, we're nerds.)  As we were bringing out our inner elementary school children and sliding down the slide, a group of scary-looking people began to approach us.  I was quite intimidated by their black clothing and baggy jeans, and as they got closer we realized that they were seventh graders.  Since we were ninth graders, it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, right?  We should be able to handle a bunch of seventh grade hooligans!  We were so very wrong.


They recognized one of my friends, Fishy42, as someone from their bus, and immediately began shouting his name and attempting to hug him, which, apparently, in perverted seventh grade language, means something close to molesting.  As we started to walk back to my house, they followed.  My first thought was, "WHAT IF THEY FOLLOW ME ALL THE WAY TO MY HOUSE AND THEY FIND OUT WHERE I LIVE AND THEY COME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND RAPE ME AND KILL ME IN MY SLEEP?!"  As you could guess, I tried to be sneaky and pretend like my house was on some random side street near my school.  As we turned, one of them shouted, "THAT'S NOT WHERE YOU LIVE!" 


"What?!" I replied.
"That's not where you live."
"How do YOU know?!"
"You live next to Vinny."


My heart sank as realization hit me: Vinny is my neighbor's name.


CREEPYSTALKERMIDDLESCHOOLERS!


Scared out of my mind by these little seventh grade boys who not only were following us and throwing acorns and crab apples (YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH THOSE LITTLE VERSIONS OF DELICIOUS FRUITS HURT!), but also knew where I lived, we continued onto a few more random side streets.  Eventually they got bored and stopped following us, but I was pretty sure I was going to be raped by a seventh grade boy and be scarred by the sight of a playground slide for the rest of my life.


So, in conclusion, I change my picture that is supposed to portray middle school in the previous blog post to this: