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First day in high school
First day in high school
First day in high school
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I will never forget my first day of sixth grade. I was so scared thinking to myself that I wouldn't know what to do. It was seven-thirty in the morning when I got out of the car and stepped out onto the concrete of my knew school. I started to get clammy when I saw all of the big kids coming out of the building. My knees began to knock and I said to myself “I cannot do this.” I heard mom say, “Close the door and just go, you'll be fine.” for a minute I just stood there looking at the building and then I said, “goodbye, see you later” to mom. As I walked up the pathway, I took a deep breath and thought, “here does nothing”. I searched for my name on the glass door to find out which teacher I had. When I found my class, three deep breaths later,
When I was twelve years old, a close friend of mine passed away. At first, I didn’t know how to process what was happening. How can someone I’ve known for the majority of my life be gone? But then it finally hit me. My friend was really gone. There would be no more days challenging
The first stop was Monica’s class room. We walked through the never ending hallway, searching for Monica’s classroom like detectives on a mission to find a key to the unknown door. We found the Monica’s classroom and dropped her off. The next stop was mine. I found myself getting more nervous each step, I toke. Suddenly my mom and my dad stopped walking and told me that this was my classroom.
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
A calm crisp breeze circled my body as I sat emerged in my thoughts, hopes, and memories. The rough bark on which I sat reminded me of the rough road many people have traveled, only to end with something no one in human form can contemplate.
When the end of my 5th grade year had hit; A land mark of the most traumatizing event of my life was about to take place. My mom had left my father and took us along with her. Over the summer and a few addit...
My life got stressful on first day of second grade. I remember getting off the bus, eager to tell my parents all about what it felt like to be in second grade. As I walked in the door, I could feel that something was wrong. It was something in the air, a depressing mood. Instead of being greeted by a house of warm response, it was silent. I shouted for my parents and searched around, finally finding them in their bedroom.
There was an entire semester where we could not attend school. We would go to school once a week to pick up homework packets and turn in the ones we had previously worked on. There were weeks where we could not go out to eat because my city was covered in smoke and my school received bomb threats. I remember my librarian crying because her husband was in town when a bomb went off and she didn’t know if he was okay. I remember my friend joking on the tear gas that suddenly enveloped us while we tried to study algebra.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday; I was sitting in my sixth grade classroom deliberately packing my belongings away in my jam-packed locker. As I reached for my belongings, I endured all of the eventful memories that took place in that school and in my home state. All the friendships that I made would abolish. My friends sobbed as I sobbed. I anticipated this very day for about six months. As all of my belongings were finally packed, I gave my final good-byes and headed out. The mixed emotions trembled through my head. I became exceedingly furious then miserable then furious again. Hatred filled my eyes as we drove farther away. I became bitter with my family and secretly blamed it all on my
I woke to the smell of bacon and my mom yelling “get up” in the most patronizing tone. I sprung out of my bed and went into the scorching hot shower. The thought of today being the first day of school panicked me. I got dressed, and went down to eat before I left. My mom told me that I looked swell, I was shocked. After I was done eating I left for the treacherous day ahead of me. I walked out the door and smelt the crisp summer air. I wandered down the road looking at the breathtaking view of trees turning colors and the breeze making them sway. I came to a sudden stop and took a deep breath. I approached slowly thinking of all the things that could go wrong on the first day back.
It was the second semester of fourth grade year. My parents had recently bought a new house in a nice quite neighborhood. I was ecstatic I always wanted to move to a new house. I was tired of my old home since I had already explored every corner, nook, and cranny. The moment I realized I would have to leave my old friends behind was one of the most devastating moments of my life. I didn’t want to switch schools and make new friends. Yet at the same time was an interesting new experience.
In 2004, it was my first official time attending school in the United states. I started off as a kindergarten student at PS.215. As of today I still remember that it was a deranged day. I refused to go to school due to the new environment. It was my first time seeing so many new faces and hearing a new language I heard English everywhere I went. I had a stunned face on because so many questions started to appear in my mind. “How am I going to make new friends, “What am I going to do”? My mom walked me to class and told me you will definitely enjoy it. I took her words and went to class with tears all over my face.
On February 2, 2006 was the worst day of my life. I was 8 years old. In third grade at Lockport Upper Elementary school. I woke up thinking it would be a normal day of school. I knew something was wrong when I opened my eyes and my neighbor was waiting for me to wake up. She asked me what I was going to wear today. I told her my khaki school pants and my red school shirt. That was my daily outfit. But she told me I wasn’t going to school. That’s when you know something is wrong. Your parents aren’t home, your neighbor is getting you dressed and now you’re not going to school. What is going on? So I told her what I wanted to wear. I picked out some black shorts and a blue tshirt from my closet. I asked her where we was going since I wasn’t going to school and she had told me the hospital. She said that something had happened to my dad.
If you did not know, it is really embarrassing walking back into a classroom after you just got into trouble. After walking in, I took my seat. As soon as I sat down, I looked to my right and saw Rachel. She sat two seats down from me. I look at her and she looks back; I give her a dirty look and look away. Class proceeded as usual until the end of school. My grandmother would pick me up from school instead of my parents. I was so happy to see her instead of one of them because she did not know. I knew my dad would have gotten in touch with my mom by then, and she would
As I was walking into a new classroom my first grade year, I could feel my heart pounding as I opened the door to a room full of new faces. All of the children were extremely friendly and I made friends immediately. The day begins with the teacher telling us a plethora of exciting activities we would be doing in the coming year, the main one being a Thanksgiving play. Instantly the class burst into overjoyed shrieks of enthusiasm about the idea of a play. It was set to be the Thursday before Thanksgiving break and we could not wait. Unfortunately our teacher caught the flu the whole week of the play. We were crushed that all of our
In 7th grade I had to get up in front of my class to get, and present a commercial. I was so scared at first because I am a very shy person. It is not easy for me to speak in front a lot of people. As I waited for my turn I felt like I was going to cry. It felt like my stomach was in my throat. In the end I was scared for nothing because when I went up and did really good. The teacher complimented me on my work. After that day I was so proud of myself for conquering my fear. In 8th grade I finally got on the honor roll, again. I was so happy to be on the honor roll, because I hadn’t been on the honor roll in a really long time. seeing all those A’s made me so happy. I felt the same excitement as I felt in kindergarten when I first gotten on the honor