Gruel. Disgusting, watery, tasteless gruel in a dirty bowl. That’s what we have for breakfast. We get a very small ladleful each. If I were Polly, I would never eat this disgusting gruel. A pig would probably have a nicer breakfast, if you want my opinion. We’re forced to eat every single bit of the awful gruel. I wish it could at least have some sugar in it. Or be in a clean bowl, even. What we get our breakfast in can’t even be called a bowl! It’s cracked and wet and filthy, and all lopsided because it’s handmade with clay, and then baked. We have gross water. It’s sweet. I wish it could be the other way round – the gruel sweet and the water wet. But it’s not. I try my best to eat the disgusting food, pinching my nose and only licking a teeny bit at a time of my spoon. It’s the most disgusting thing you could imagine. But it’s all we have. One of the pig matrons, Matron Trebelcleff, is strolling around the tables, glaring at everyone and making sure we’re eating our breakfasts. I hate Maron Trebelcleff. I hate all the matrons really. She stops right behind me. I can tell she’s frowning. “Now, now, Diana, this will not do!” She says smugly but fiercely. I sigh. Matron Trebelcleff forgets names a lot. “It’s Dolly!” I mutter, stirring my gruel. “You what?” Matron Trebelcleff says furiously. “Dnot you dare talk back to me! I’m not having any of your cheek, thank you! Now be quiet and eat your breakfast, or I’ll send you to Matron Hodges!” And with that she marches smartly and smugly off. Matron Trebelcleff is always smug. I try my hardest to eat my gruel. Matron Hodges is the scariest most awful person ever. She’s the head matron. She has a small, filthy, disgusting office and whacks people with a spiky leather belt. She hates fun. She never allows fun. Ever. It’s just work and misery here. “Ooh, in trouble again, Dolly?” Marilyn Hughes sneers. Marilyn Hughes is my arch enemy. She is tall and slim and blonde, and everyone likes her and sucks up to her. Her and her sickly snobby friend Florrie Stephens. Florrie is dreamy and weird and doesn’t know what she’s saying half the time. She is the biggest gossiper ever though, (which is why her and Marilyn know about Polly)  and treats Marilyn like her queen, doing whatever she says. Marilyn treats Florrie like a slave or a carrier-pidgeon, running around giving messages, and making her tidy up and clean her things and whatever. I hate her. She hates me.

Why does life have to be so suckish????