Thomas Jefferson Middle School-Personal Narrative

Long, wide roads, small houses, steel fences, tall palm trees, a black Toyota parked at a yellow colored house, an abandon house, which looked like it was hunted, the front door was open and you can see from afar that inside there is nothing but darkness. The house was surrounded by trees and it was secluded from all the other houses around it. These were my view as I walked into an unfamiliar building called Thomas Jefferson Middle School. As I opened the blue wooden door and walked in the building, a tremendous chill came over me, which I have never felt before. The building was very cold; I started shivering as I was walking in. It was old and was not well cared for. The colors of the walls were faded and the elevators made the sound of

Walking through the dark hallway, I struggled to find the light every day. Going into my classroom felt like opening the door to a pathway to hell. I cried each and every day hoping and praying I would go back to the place I loved my whole life, my school back in Ethiopia. As I walked into my old school, past memories and emotion came rushing back to me. I saw my old hiding place, I would go there to get away from all my problems. It was beside the cafeteria, where a small room was located. The walls were dusty and the floor looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for a year, but I didn’t care because that was my place where I can hide from the rest of the world. One day I heard a knock at the door, I thought who in their right mind would want to come here, but as it turned out that day was the day everything changed and I met my best friend there. My whole perspective about school changed that day. The ugly building I did not want to walk into became like my second home. I realized I was lucky to have a school to go to, and most people don’t have a chance to even go to school. Going to my classes became the best part of my day. Having my best friend beside me taught me that I can accomplish anything if I try my