A/N This is a collection of different writing tasks I had to do for uni. Enjoy :)

My name is Bill, and I am the youngest of 15 children. However, I am the luckiest of all my siblings, as I am allowed to go to school. Or at least, that’s what everyone tells me.

When my older brothers and sisters were my age, back in the 1890s, they couldn’t go to school, because Mama and Papa did not have enough money for them to attend. Instead they had to work so that the family would have enough money for food and clothes, the only people who really got an education were the upper classes, the rich folk. But now I too can get an education because the government helps pay for it, and it is compulsory.

Papa says I’m a very smart boy, because not only am I learning to read and write, I am also learning arithmetic, religion, geography, history, physically education and drawing. My favourite lessons are when we draw, because they are fun.

Most of the time school is very boring, but everyone keeps reminding me how lucky I am. I don’t see why Joe, my older brother, is so jealous of me. I mean, I’m stuck inside most of the day, and the windows are so high up I cant actually look out of them. I’d much rather be outside than in a stuffy room repeatedly saying my spelling words and times tables.

The older children are lucky, because they get to use pan and ink in their copy books. The rest of us only get writing slates that we use over and over again. Ink looks so much more exciting. And messy. That’s another reason I like drawing. The lead pencils rub off onto your hand when you hold them. I’ve heard that some people have special pencils, which have woods around them so that your hands don’t get dirty. Where is the fun in that?

Last week I got in trouble for daydreaming when the rest of the class was reciting their two times tables. It was so unfair; I ended up getting the cane. You can still see the bruises.

If getting an education is boring and means I get the cane for daydreaming of fresh air, I do not see how I am as lucky as they all say.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Every day I watch the students waltz in and out of the classroom. Everyday I go unnoticed. Forgotten.

Master Matthew has long since graduated from this confined room, and been unleashed upon the world at large. Mister Colbridge, who was the instrument in our separation has also moved on to more interesting places in the world. But sadly I remain here, neglected and forgotten in my small corner of the classroom.

I have watched many changes, including the introduction of all children beginning school in 1902. Before this time I only had snooty nosed boys like my beloved Matthew in the classroom. I prefer these new children, who are finally being given an opportunity to learn.

I know everything the children learn; I can read, I know my times tables, and all about geography, history and religion. However, I cannot write, draw or join in in their physical education lessons.

I yearn to be able to pick up a pencil and draw, or practise on a slate. I watch longingly at the inkpots in their holes in the desk as they are refilled each day. To watch and learn, yet not be able to join in, is very unfortunate indeed.

It gets so cold and lonely sometimes. The sunlight never reaches me, and the windows are so high up. The classroom is my prison. I would love to know once more the freedom of the open sky. I often see little Bill looking longingly at the window too. I wish that we could be friends. But he has yet to notice me.

The other day he got the cane from the teacher. How I wanted to wrap my little paws around him, as I did for Master Matthew when he needed a friend. To give little Bill te comfort he sop desperately needed, was a pleasure I was unable to grant.

Thus I remain here, cold and alone. Ever so lonely in silence, when all I really want to do is shout “Hello! My name is Teddy. Teddy Bear, your new best friend.”