I walked in and my stomach made a flip-flop like riding “The Scream” at Six Flags. Everyone was staring at me! With their curios eyes and anxious to know who I was. I froze like ice and felt the heat rise through my face. My parents talked to my teacher, Ms.Piansky. Then my mom whispered “It’s ti...
This would mark day number one of classes. I was not alone as I realized the other number of students were just like me, alone and disordered. The school resembled my old high school, with long hallways and multiple classroom doors, which reminded me that I had no clue where I was going. I figured I would have this problem so I had printed my schedule out the night before to use as an atlas to navigate me toward my multiple destinations for the day. All my prior preparations for this day of classes seemed to be failing me already. While I frantically screened for the right door number and avoided the glares from the upper classmen to hide my embarrassment, I had finally arrived at my first class, Chemistry
However I was already late for lunch, which was bad because I absolutely did not want to make an entrance. When I walked into the cafeteria everyone was staring at me. I didn’t think things could get any worse, but, again I was wrong. I looked at the table where my friends were sitting and saw it was full. “Why didn’t they save me a spot?” I wondered. I felt my face get red, not with anger, but with embarrassment. My friends were laughing at me as I walked with my head down looking for
It was a gloomy Tuesday despite the fact that it was late August. I had missed the first day of school because I always hated the idea of introductions and forced social situations during those times. I hated my particular school ever since I started as a freshman the
School had just started; it was the fall of my sophomore year. I was excited about having new teachers and being able to boss around those little freshmen since I had finally lost that ridiculous title of “freshy.” Although one class did turn all that excitement right into knots in my stomach, it was English 10. Ugh I hated English, partially because I could never remember all those rules of writing, which I had just thought of as “dumb.” I figured, “Why would I ever need to know all them? Computers will be able to fix all my mistakes for me!” As I would soon find out, boy was I ever wrong. Surprisingly, class was going good; our teacher Mr. Mieckowski seemed to be a little weird and quite boring at times but all in all not too bad I mean who isn’t boring occasionally? He had a shiny head with very little hair and never wore long sleeves to class. He was also quite tall and skinny, so everyone had his or her own conclusion about Mr. Mieckowski’s personal life. A lot of the time this ended up being the topic of conversation for his students, along with his hatred towards icicle lights, white reindeer, and especially technology; the thing I loved most.
I was just coming from second grade; a year where I had my most referrals and problems with the other students. I wasn’t expecting much from third grade except more phone calls and another teacher who despised my very existence. I knew walking into class would just be another four hours of my name being called and my seat being rearranged, so I skipped the first day to prevent all the problems that were already coming my way. The next morning I was
As the dull scent of chalk dust mixes imperceptably with the drone of the teacher's monotone, I doodle in my tablet to stay awake. I notice vaguely that, despite my best efforts in the shower this morning after practice, I still smell like chlorine. I sigh and wonder why the school's administration requires the students to take a class that, if it were on the Internet, would delight Mirsky (creator of Mirsky's Worst of the Web), as yet another addition to his list of worthless sites. Still, there was hope that I would learn something that would make today's first class more than just forty-five wasted minutes... It wouldn't be the first time I learned something new from the least likely place.
There I stayed for the remaining 20 minutes which managed to feel like hours. Finally, we pulled into the front of the school. Any relief in exiting The Bus left me quickly as I gazed upon Royalton High School once again. I had visited the institution over the last three years for my brothers’ wrestling matches, so it was vaguely familiar. After attending Open House the week prior, I became hesitant to approach since last time I had been assaulted by a large group of chatty girls. Only two people names were known to me in this large abyss of hormones, but I’d never meet either of
I thought about doing some homework, but it was already going to be late. The bell rang, and we all stood up. The three of us had the same homeroom, but we never went. we instead went to a location in the school we had discovered early that year. It was a small room in the very bottom of the school, even below the basement. It was fully furnished, and got wifi. We had looked at all the maps of the school, and the entrance never once appeared on them. After the fifteen minute descent, we entered the room, but to our surprise there was a man in the room. He was examining the far wall, and moments later found what he was looking for. Pressing in one of the bricks, the wall slid open to reveal an
It was finally the first day of school; I was excited yet nervous. I hoped I would be able to make new friends. The first time I saw the schools name I thought it was the strangest name I’ve ever heard or read, therefore I found it hard to pronounce it in the beginning. The schools’ floors had painted black paw prints, which stood out on the white tiled floor. Once you walk through the doors the office is to the right. The office seemed a bit cramped, since it had so many rooms in such a small area. In the office I meet with a really nice, sweet secretary who helped me register into the school, giving me a small tour of the school, also helping me find