Hello. I am Martin McDonald. I am a young 15 year old boy who has lived in Onoda my entire life. I have brown hair, brown eyes and wear a sweater and pants. I felt as if I was the most normal person. It was actually school and I sat at my desk inside Ms. Stone’s class. Eric Yun, a Korean nerd, was sitting to the right of me. . Eric wore an orange sweater with some beige khakis and had straight black hair and eyes. Jordan Glaciov, this cool guy with white hair sat to my left. They were my friends. He wore black pants, a white overcoat and a black t-shirt with a white snowflake on it. If you want to know some secrets, I haven’t just been an ordinary guy. Jordan and this girl Jessica killed this megalomaniac that was controlling their lives, Jordan can, quite literally shoot ice out of his hands. The air is always cold whenever he’s around.

Ms Stone was teaching us math at the time and she is this stupid old coot who should be retired but somehow she is still teaching. I mean, I wouldn’t be teaching at this age. I would be on some nice beach in the Bahamas or at my house playing Minecraft right now. The classroom had blue and white walls and the desks were brown and had white chairs for all students. Ms Stone had her gray hair wrapped in a bun and had glasses and wore a black shirt and a red skirt. She was in the middle of a lesson and then suddenly a noise was coming from the vent. It was the noise of a monkey.

“OOH OOH AAH AHH!”

The whole class started to go ballistic at the sound. It was banging on the vents and Ms Stone stopped the lesson and looked at the vent.

“WHAT IS THAT SOUND?” she yelled. She found a brown stool and grabbed it. She placed on the ground and stared at the vent. She stepped on the stool and slapped the vent as the monkey continued to cackle inside of the vent. It wasn’t a monkey, it was a robot that Eric had built under my payment. The robot also has another feature. The sound came close to the cover of the vent. Ms Stone was ready. The vent cover came off and hit her in the head. Everyone in the class was laughing. Then, dark brown chocolate fell through the vent and covered her in chocolate. The chocolate smell was sweet as everyone was laughing even more. Ms. Stone lost her temper.

“My clothes… everything is RUINED!!!!” says Ms. Stone. “Who did this?”

“Reminds you of someone?” Jordan asks in my ear. I laugh.

“Yeah.”

She did remind us of a Jessica-like temper. Unfortunately, the only one playing pranks was me so Ms. Stone came over to me and dragged me to the office. The office smelled of old wood and we were brought into the principal's office. Saunders was angry. He was sitting at his large desk and we received two stinky old chairs to sit on. At the office, I sat in my chair giggling after I had gotten the prank off. Saunders screamed at me and I just didn’t listen. Then my parents walked in and then I paid attention. My father and mother sat down in chairs next to Saunders and then Saunders continued.

“Mom?” I said.

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“Martin,” says my father. Saunders began to speak.

“Martin’s behavior at this school is AWFUL.” says Saunders . “He shows no respect for any of the faculty in this school. He is obedient.”

“Martin?” asks his mom. I shudder in nervousness. I have kept my prankster self away from my parents because I knew they would be mad.

“He has also not turned in any assignments to Ms. Stone or any of his other teachers.” says Saunders. “He should be expelled.”

“Martin,” says my dad. “Tell me he is lying.”

I may be a jokester, but I know when times are getting serious. This was one of those times. To be honest, yes, I wasn’t doing assignments and I should have been punished for it, but what happened next shocked me.

“No.” I said. My parents looked at me in disappointment and then looked away. My mom had long brown hair and had brown eyes and my father had red hair and red freckles. I looked down on the ground. My father was a workaholic who stayed inside of his room all day and my mother was a pilot. I was taken home by my parents who walked with me to the parking lot of the school and opened the doors of our Dodge Journey. It was red and shiny. It was a new car my father had purchased recently. I sat down in the back seat and put my belt on. My father took the wheel and drove me back to our home, along with my mother.

“Martin,” says my father.

“Yeah, dad?” I asked nervously.

“We are sending you to a boarding school in France,” says my mom.

“BOARDING SCHOOL?!?” I ask.

“Yes. You clearly don’t care for school so we need to send you to school that can teach you some responsibility.” says my father.

“Dad.” I said. “You have to understand. I have friends here.”

“Then you’re just gonna have to say goodbye to them Martin.” says my mom.

“No. No! NO!”

“Pack your things.” says my father. “I have already set you up at the Dubois Academy For Responsible Students or DARS, for short.”

The car stopped right in front of our home.

“What about Billy?” I ask. “He beats kids up. He should go too if you think I am misbehaving!”

“Billy is different, son,” says my father. “Stop arguing with the decisions your mother and I made weeks in advance.”

I get out of our car and walk to our home. I walked up to the front and opened the door with the key I took out of my pocket. I put it in, twisted the key and the door opened. I glanced around. Our home was a two storey home with white walls and a minty green roof. The home was big, maybe double the size of Jordan’s home and on the inside, had the living room on the right, kitchen on the left and the stairs in the middle of the home, which led up to the bedroom.

I walked inside of the home and I went to my room and started packing like what my parents had asked. Truth is, I would never go against what they ask me to do, because well, they are my parents. I had grabbed a brown and yellow luggage and packed clothes, school supplies and more. I came outside with it in my hand. I walked back to the car after 40 minutes or so of packing and then I get inside and I sat down, belt buckled as they drove me to the airport.