5* Prison - Excerpt No 3

One day I was presented with a choice of schools depicted in glossy self-advertising pamphlets. These schools looked nothing like what I was used to: kids had uniforms and there were neatly trimmed gardens and hedges. The teachers had photographs and bios, there were sports halls and too many clubs and societies to mention. Some schools even had what resembled grand old castle-like structures – reminiscent of “Hogwarts”… I picked the poshest looking one and felt excited about the prospect of returning home to England. Now I realize that returning to benefit my education was perhaps not the only reason for the move. This must have also been the last chance for the marriage of my parents.

I remember saying ‘Hello!’ enthusiastically to strangers on the street for the first months after arriving back as this was normal behavior in a small French village. People would give confused and startled expressions at the skinny smiling French-sounding kid greeting them randomly.

This new school was far tougher than the ones before it… The kids were wealthy, often with a generous dash of cruelty. Foreigners, overweight, poorer and strange-looking kids were all humiliated and abused on a daily basis. The attacks were cowardly and typically consisted of spitting, messages, destruction of property, name-calling, and exclusion from social activities. I could not understand why there was so much hatred and smug treachery. Even in France there had been sharing of sweets, acts of kindness, invitations to play football and a few treasured friendships. Although, I had always been unafraid to take a maverick anti-establishment stance, this was the first institution that I was ‘asked to leave’.