In May, most British schools send their upper sixthformers away on study leave. This time is meant, of course, to be spent studying, but in practice is used by many as an extention to the summer holidays. So, in effect, the day we break up for study leave is the day we leave school. For good. I'm embarrassed to say that the day I've been eagerly waiting for for years is not living up to my expectations.

This thought is, for me at least, terrifying. I have been attending Newcastle School every day for the past seven years. The feelings I have about leaving are mixed.

The fact is, that I hate this school. Every day I wake up and think "oh fuck, I have to go to school". It really is that bad. From the hideous and frankly painful uniform to the dull and deafening assembly each morning, Newcastle School is a hole of hell. I have a few close friends, but the majority of the year-group are arrogant, pretentious tossers.

However, there is one huge factor which prevents me from feeling pure joy at the prospect of finally leaving. The problem is that all these vile people and routines have become familiar. What will I do when I no longer have to get up at 7:15 every morning? What will I wear? How will I spend my day?

In fact, the biggest question for me is "What will I do with nobody to hate?". Most of my conversations and thoughts revolve around how much my friends and I despise our peers. The perfects, the populars, the sporties - my life would be empty without them. I am, to be honest, terrified of what will happen to me when the strict social structure of school is taken away.

Nor will I have any rules to break, any sporting events to avoid, or any overwhelming monstrous thought to begin every day. I am worried that this bitter and spiteful person I have become will be lost in the real world.

Of course, there is one thing that I will miss in a straightforward and normal way: my friends. Without them to share it with, the hatred I feel would probably have destroyed me by now. They make me feel that I'm not the only weirdo in the world, and, to be fair, we have had some fun times together at school. From copying homework to sneaking off for a crafty fag, my pals have made the last seven years bearable.

I will not make new friends at university.

So for now, I'll carry on squeezing the last despisable drops out of school life, before the object of my hatred (upon which I've grown so dependent) is ripped away from me. I simply do not know how I will fill the bleeding hole it will leave in me.

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