This is my first fanfic. I wrote it ages ago and it's kind of just a test

It was an ordinary day at Bash Street school – well as ordinary as you get. Most had joined in with a wild game of football and Sid was yelling at Spotty to put Winston the cat down who was being swung around by his tale. Basically just a normal lunchtime.

I was sitting on a bench, pretending to read the latest copy of the Beano; I say pretending because to be honest, I'd grown out of things like that ages ago. I was 12 now. Do most 12 year olds still read comics and learn how to calculate 2+3. I don't think so.

Well, maybe they do. How am I supposed to know anyway? Living in Beano town isn't as great as it all seems in the comic. People get shot, killed, bullied for being different. The kids here never grow up; they become unemployed and live their lives on benefits. The older generations don't seem to care. They have enough money to live off so why would they worry about the kids here.

At Bash Street, we have to wear the clothes that we wear in the Beano. Teacher says it's to make tourists happy when they visit and see everything is like how it is in the comic. Why should we have to worry what tourists think? Wee don't get many anyway. Once you've been here once, you never come back. It's dangerous, run down and dull. It's like a whole town of council houses, estates and flats.

Back in the playground, Teacher is rounding everybody up with great difficulty. Cuthbert of course is already in the classroom, pen ready, book open. Some things never change.

'TOOTS. COME. HERE. NOW.' Teacher had lost his temper completely now.

'DETENTION ALL OF YOU!' he yelled

I sighed and got up. Detention again. Late home again. Late to pick up Ellie again. In trouble with Mum again. No time to do homework again. Another detention, again. The list goes on.

Back in the classroom, we work our way through simple questions. Well, some do. Most just sit doing nothing. Halfway through the long two hours, teacher decided that we'd done enough maths. (Not wrong there) and decided to do some SPACE (social, personal something or other education) instead.

'Now class, here's some paper, you'll need it later.'

Teacher waffled on about life, secrets and other rubbish no one needs to know about. People fell asleep; people read on their laps, people played with their phones. I looked out the window, staring at the gates, which I longed to run through. As soon as I'm out of those gates I know I'm free!

'CONCENTRATE!' Teacher suddenly bellowed 'Pick up your pens and write ten things most people don't know about you,'

A groan sounded across the class.

'COME ON OR YOU'LL BE HERE 'TILL FOUR O'CLOCK.'

No thank you, I thought picking up my pen. I scribbled something down about foods I liked, drinks I drank and what colour my room was. I wasn't going to tell teacher my secrets. Secrets are secrets, not to be shared.

Had teacher not been going to reading it, here's what I would have written:

I have a little sister called Ellie who's 3

My Mum works all day until 7.30. I look after Sid and Ellie

Mum and Dad are divorced

I hate being a tomboy

I like reading a bit

I don't really like my fellow Bash street kids

I absolutely HATE Dennis the Menace (Hate is a strong word, so I really mean it)

Mum is a bit short on money at the moment, Sid has no pets and we have a tiny flat

I don't ever see my Dad, he lives in London, in a mouldy flat where he drinks beer all day and goes to the pub in the evenings

I really, really HATE being the only girl.

Well, that's what I would have written but I obviously didn't. I never tell people things about me.

The bell went and Cuthbert scuttled off home whilst we sat for another ten minutes in a loud silence. Eventually Teacher said we could go. I pulled on my coat, grabbed my bag and dashed out the room – not before the boys saw me though unfortunately

'Hey Toots, we're having a fight with the blob street kids tonight, you coming,'

'Erm… no,' I muttered, making up and excuse.

I hurried along the road, hoping I made it in time. I looked at my watch. 3.45. I was late. Again. I reached the nursery and dashed inside. Ellie was sitting on her chair, swinging her legs. She was the last person left.

'Hell, Toots,' she said running up to me. I took her hand and she told me about her day. It sounded a lot better than mine. She'd done painting, playing and show and tell. I'd done science; maths and P.E. Sometimes I wish I were still three.

As we turned into our road, I spotted Dennis, Pie face and Curly walking towards me. Ellie was still chatting away and making quite a lot of noise. Dennis looked up and saw us.

I paused. Being seen with a little girl in a pink dress was bad enough, but if I turned and ran I would be considered a coward. I considered the options but it was too late.

'Playing with babies, Toots?' he sneered

Dennis isn't one to keep secrets and with 2 witnesses – this is going to be hard to live down.

Good? Bad? Pointless?