No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story. Celebrating Diversity Since 2015
Out of the taxi and into the bitter early morning air we got. As I stood there watching the group head into the flat, a horrible realisation hit me. I only had a couple of fags left. The garage was only a five-minute walk from Mary’s, so I set off down the road, and, as I did do, I contemplated doing a runner. ‘This night is going to end in tears’, I thought. They usually do. But the lure of a session was, once again, and regrettably, too much.
Sadly, through events and shenanigans outside of school, my behaviour deteriorated in fourth year, and I was thrown out at the age of fifteen, with a pass in English and no other qualifications to my name. I had only been allowed to sit my Maths and English exams at the end of the year. I didn’t even bother turning up for my Maths exam. How my schooling ended is an immense regret of mine. But, what’s done is done.