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Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Welcome to Devil's Peak High School

The following is a work of Fiction. Any resemblance to real places or events may be intentional but don’t count on it. All Charecters however are purely fictional and work very hard to make their personalities nothing like that of actual people.

Still doing some editing on this one so please excuse the poor writing... Just remember where I got my edumacation.




Welcome to Devil’s Peak High School,
Abandon hope all ye who enter






 I’ve noticed something strange these last couple weeks. Maybe it’s the fact I’m living in a different state then I grew up in. Or perhaps the times have just changed over the last 10 to 15 years. 

 The back to school sales have started full force with all the school supplies moved to the front of many of stores. That isn’t the strange part. What I find weird are the expressions on the faces of the high school kids looking through the stuff. They are actually smiling. Maybe its denial, or they just don’t know what’s waiting for them in high school. It could be they know they aren’t going to Devil’s Peak High School. 

I remember my first day at Devil’s Peak. I was lucky, no one knew I was a freshman, therefore no one knew I needed a Devil’s Peak welcome. What is a Devil’s Peak welcome you may ask? Well, let’s start at the beginning.  

The day is naturally confusing and some what scary day. Many remember past years at Devil’s Peak and some are entering the school for the first time. Either way they are more then justified to be scared. 

I was nervous when I arrived at the school that first day with my friends Martyr (Marty) Perish and Chase Street. Lucky for us an old friend of ours, with already one year at the school under his belt, was waiting to intercept us. Our friend Jimmy Hoodland, upon seeing us, ran over to us and said in a hushed voice,” I’m glad I found you in time, listen up and every thing should be just fine.” Suffice it to say we got just a little more nervous at this, so without a word we followed and listened. 

Jimmy explained that first we needed to go to the cashier’s window for our “official schedules”. He explained that the reason we needed them was that sometimes there were changes in the schedule that we received during the summer. We later learned that the real reason was so they could start classes 15 minutes late so the teachers could make sure their rooms were ready, that they had enough papers, their prayers were said, and that their last will and testimonies were current. 

After we had out “Official Schedules” Jimmy decided to show us the Quad.  Here, on a mural of the Devil in the center of the school, is the center place of the world of Devil’s Peak. On the section of grass known as the Senior Lawn, the new masters of the school wait for a poor lost freshman to wonder onto their lawn and into one of their trash cans. It is also here that the freshman may purchase copies of tests that freshmen teachers “always used”, purchase safety from “accidents”, hall passes, and the infamous Elevator Pass. In all my years in Devil’s Peak I never did find the elevators but the pass vendors insisted they existed. 

With the time remaining Jimmy showed us a spot between the English and commercial building where four benches surrounded a tree. He told us that at lunch time, we should walk to this spot and sit down like we owned the place. He said that we’d see why at lunch time. 

Finally, as the bell rung to go to class, the principal, Mr. Baldwell started to call out, “one minute before the tardy bell rings,” with his megaphone, the freshmen crawled out of their hiding places and trash cans to go to class, some with hopes to try out their recently purchased elevator passes not knowing yet that they had wasted twenty bucks. Two minutes later everyone else started for their classes and one minute later the tardy bell finally rung. 

Now most of the classes are the same the first day. Each class has a hundred things for you and your parents to sign and then a bunch of stupid games to learn the names of people you didn’t care about. During  second period, as the teacher begins to explain the handouts he’s  giving, the intercom system starts up with the voice of Mr. Baldwell  saying, "Good morning Devil’s Peak students, may I please have your  attention.” 

As the upper classmen groan, the teacher usually lets off a short string of very colorful words, puts the handouts down, picks up a novel, and begins to read while the students begin to play amongst themselves.   
There are two theories about the daily announcements: one is that Mr.  Baldwell just really enjoys the sound of his voice; the other is that it  might be a brain washing technique (buy school raffle tickets) which could account for some people staring dumbly off into space and having memory lapses during (buy school raffle tickets) the announcements.  

  I learned the secret to getting through four years of nightmarish speeches was by curling into the fetal position, covering my ears, and loudly yelling at the beginning of the speech, “NO! YOU CAN'T HAVE MY ATTENTION! JUST BE QUIET!” Soon the teachers and other students saw how this process helped maintain sanity during that horrid moment of the day and began to follow my example. 

When lunch time came around, the freshman who weren’t delirious with fear from the initial welcome, struck out in search for a piece of unclaimed land where they and their group would be able to hangout at for the next four years. This was usually very traumatic for them because as we learned that day, that as new kids milled around looking for a place to go they were instantly identified as freshmen and were open to more of the welcoming treatment, and spending additional time face first in a trash can or held by their feet with their heads in a toilet by those  who were secure in their own territories. Only freshmen with upper classmen friends (like us), who already had a staked out portion of the school, were spared. 

After  the end of the half hour lunch the bell rung again to tell us we had  five minutes to get to class, and once again Mr. Baldwell came out with  his megaphone to spend four minutes telling us we had one minute to get  to class. After two more periods of life at Devil’s Peak the dismissal bell rung and the surviving freshman went home to beg their parents to home teach them. Some of the smarter ones I knew of went off to hold up a store, preferring the safety of jail over another day in what has grown to be known as the devil’s private high school.  

Parents tried to comfort them saying it would be better after a few days. And they were right! For after a few days, torturing freshmen gave way to fights, riots, sabotage, smoke bombs, and catching the sophomore English teacher’s projector on fire. But those are stories for another day. 



Copyright © 2011 Marc Van Pelt

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