I settle down into a leather armchair and broaden my shoulders.

I pat my hair to check for lumps, not that I care.

This year, mum was very enthusiastic that I would have a good school photo.

By enthusiastic, I mean that she was fussing over my hair every five minutes, and that she gave me a ‘cooling cucumber facial mask’, whatever that was.

Blinking in the lights I look towards the camera lens and readied myself.

Out of the blue my best friend Mimi, who is VERY loud, called out to me,


I glanced over at her, which proved to be a massive mistake.

She started waving her arms about like one of those inflatable tube men that you see at car sales, desperately trying to get me to look back at her.

I didn’t, and so she kept flailing about.

One of her arms hit Kevin,(who is always eating something), and the donut that was grasped in his hand went flying.

It went flying, and landed on the school picture guys shiny bald head.

It started as a giggle, but soon the class was rolling around in hysterical laughter.

I slumped back in the arm chair and started up at the ceiling.

Why me?

I thought hopelessly.

As I stared at the ceiling a fat, round fly buzzed around.


I shrieked.

I am TERRIFIED of anything that flys.

Especially bat man.

It was this moment the picture guy decided to take my picture.

“Smile!” He said in his overly happy, freaky way.


Now I have a photo of myself staring at the ceiling, screaming, with my mouth agape like a fish.

What next?

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