I Hate Mondays

• Tully Oxenham, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2022

I hate Mondays! They're the first day of the week, and ages before Friday. I stared out of the window, my sandwich sat in my hands and I wished I could go outside but it was wet weather. The gloomy and cold-hearted air stared at me. I placed my finger on the wet glass, the rain droplets raced to the bottom. I drew a dragon picking Julian up and taking him far far away, up in the sky where he could never bully me again. The lightning crashed violently, it entered my ears like metal rock music, I imagined myself in a rock band screaming into the microphone. Just as I was about to continue my day dream doing something totally awesome, Julian nudged me. He went on about something I didn't bother to listen to, the whole class howled like hyenas, all giving praise to Julian about how he's a comedian.

Julian made fun of me some more, as he was about to say something extremely stupid and useless, the window broke open and darted onto the carpet floor into tiny little pieces. I watched as my drawing of the dragon and Julian scattered into bits. My whole class ran to the back of the classroom, pinned up against the wall screaming. I sat at my desk, my light green eyes wide open.
"Henry!" Squealed my old teacher. I looked back at her, my teacher's face was pale and her eyes fully open. I felt something grab me, it was rough, wind blew in my face rapidly, and then everything all went black.

The last thing I remembered was something extremely hard grabbing me. My eyes popped open like a champagne cap and a red, bulky dragon towered over my school. It raced around the air at 80 miles per hour. My heart did front flips, my brain threw out all the things I learnt in class, as I realised how far up in the air I was. It speeded through the battering rain, I listened as the thunder rumbled once more, and birds squealed and flew away back to their nests.
ZOOM! BOOM! I looked down at my hands and my lunch sat in them, the foil wrapped over my sandwich rustled. The dragon turned its head and spotted my sandwich, it grabbed it and headed towards the ground, I held on for dear life.

Walking home with my parents was so difficult, they didn't believe my story one bit. When they asked Mrs Winchester, (my awfully old teacher) what had happened, she couldn't even open her mouth, her face still stayed pale, as white as paper. I looked at the sky, and thought about how a single sandwich practically saved my life. I realised how glad I was to be on earth, and not in a dragons digestive system. Why would the dragon even pick me up in the first place, maybe it was just hungry. After my eventful day I wondered, maybe Mondays aren't so bad after all.