There I was craving for ink, waiting for school to start. After that long summer vacation. My father dropped me off at school, I went straight for the Bibliotheca. When I entered the Bibliotheca I looked diligently for the biggest book, and hoped that nobody would see me try to drink the ink. Then, my best friend Bradley came towards my way. Then I closed the book and put the book back. “What are you doing with that book there, Bradley asked I thought you hated books?” “ I do, but I was just checking it out because I had nothing else to do.” I thought to myself, I can’t tell him the truth about my ink drinking problem. Then the bell rang and we went to class. As soon as I went into my reading class I could smell the scrumptious ink of the books in her class. When the …show more content…
So all day I sojourned away from people as far as I could because I didn’t want anybody to see the ink stain on my shirt, then all of a sudden, my best friends showed up and said,”why do you have that ink stain on that shirt.” I didn’t know what to do, so I said,“my pen busted and it got on my shirt.” They responded and said,“Oh, I understand, do you need a new shirt?” I told them I didn’t need one because I’ll probably spill something else on it today too. After the long day of school had completely ended, I decided to head to my father's bookstore because I was dehydrated. When I got there my father was still in there, so I started hammering on the door, so he would notice me, then he let me in. I was staring at the large inventory of books on the shelves to see which one looked the best. There I saw it the dictionary I thought that could be perfect. I grasped it in a cursory because I was parched all day. When I reached in my pocket for my straw, I kept on looking for it and then I finally succumbed. Then in an electrifying way I evoked that I had an extra straw hidden in one of the
One day everything changed. My new teacher told everyone to line up. I followed at the end of the line to a place right down the hallway where I discovered my lifeline for third grade. The library. I had always loved reading little books and getting read to ,but I had never gotten to check out a book in my own name. I was ecstatic. I found a book that interested me. “Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus.” I immediately checked it out and took it home I couldn’t wait to read it. Little did I know I would have trouble and it was a lot harder than I thought.
The unpolished floors and graffitied lockers with pictures of the Beatles glued to them indicated to me that no summer cleaning had been done at school, for what seemed like several years. As I walked, a neatly folded piece of paper, which I placed in my pocket earlier this morning, grazed my outer thigh was not letting me forget its purpose. My palms were sweaty and all I could think of was that on the first day of school, I had decided to tell my crush that I liked her. What a stupid decision. I decided to wash my hands and then put my plan into action. My walk across the hallway continued till I reached the guy’s bathrooms. Just as I was about to push the door, it opened and out ran a blonde and petite girl. My crush. Her face was surprised and her hazel eyes were
“Because I can’t figure out this stupid question or maybe just like teacher said I am just not smart enough to figure it out. I think I just can’t do it” I replied and threw my pen away. The pen dropped on the ground, rolled slowly and stopped beside my bed. Grandma sighed, walked down to the pen, and picked it up. It seemed that she already got used to my recent
When I was entering into High School, I tried to join as many clubs as I can, since I wanted not only to be superior in grades, but also extracurricular activities. So as usual, I joined Key Club. At first volunteering at the events was fun, but as I went to more events, it felt as if it was a chore. I did not feel any passion; it was rather tiresome.
She waited until the next morning and went to prison with the special shoes and socks he wore. She begged them to let my father have these things. They only laughed at her! “He doesn’t need anything where he’s going, lady. Go home and take that with you.” Six weeks later the postman brought a letter. My father’s name was Martin and it said the following: “Martin Wolf, age 47, died of unknown causes.” Then they sent a little urn, where you put ashes when someone dies. My father had died! My mother wrote to me, “Our father is no longer with us. What am I going to do? How am I going to exist?”
No one could ever comprehend the hatred I had for reading- no one. Reading to me was just like being deathly ill, stuck inside, watching the neighbors play and know you couldn't join. On Monday morning I sat down in my teacher Mrs. Daniels class. I had a strange feeling reading would be an assignment coming up soon. I was dreading what I knew she was going to say next. “Class you will have 4 weeks to complete this book.” As I heard these words come out of her mouth I lowered myself into my seat like a turtle slowly going into its shell. I felt as if I was drowning and no one could save me until my life was over. Not only did I hate reading but I hated it even more when I was forced to. I thought in my head, “Why. Why make us read a dumb book that will do nothing but take away my social life.” Never did I know the book I was about to read would have such an impact
Cense the cold times in January little Cassi had been helping me with books and being like my best friend and it was nice. I told her stuff that I hadn't told anyone. Then one day she told me that she had a real nice surprise for me. She also said that she found it in the woods but I didn’t mind. I was just so happy that Cassie was so sweet and got me something. As I watched Cassi step into the dry gully then to the bank I was getting tired of walking. “It ain’t far. You need to see this.” So I ran as fast as I could loosing my balance. As we started walking again I felt lost. “You sure it's this way, little Cassie?” “Not to much farther. There it is.” We walked into a dark little spot with vines every where in the
Middle school was one of toughest. It was crucial for me to read, write, and speak English. My sixth-grade teacher wrote on my process report that I needed more practice with my English. So, I was required to be enrolled in an ESL (English second language) class. I was expected to write stories, present my country and culture, and was able to read aloud once month during the school year. It was one of the most challenging thing I have face but with enough practice the reward will be fulfilling. I was determined to do good on these assignments and want to prove people wrong that I can read, write, and speak English. I remembered that I stayed every night reading and watching tv shows with English subtitles. Whenever I stumble a word that I can’t
Life is made up of choices. We chose to go to school, choose to be brave and most importantly we choose to smile. I've never been the person to be open emotionally, when it comes to opening up I find the quickest way to change the subject. Middle school was like going through the Mean Girls movie, without the miraculous happy ending. I was lost, an outcast. Have you ever smiled for the wrong reason? Smiling has always been easier than explaining why I'm sad, sometimes all I could do was smile and hold back my tears. I had smiled for so long I didn't know if it was real or not, I thought if I smiled long enough I would forget about being sad, but it only worked for a little while. I came to a new school trying to start a new life by changing the girl people thought was annoying.
I woke up to the sound of my mom calling my name. ‘’Just five more minutes,’’ I said as I pulled the covers over my head. ‘’We’re going to Yosemite.’’ my mom said. My mom finally dragged me out of bed. I trudged into the bathroom and then brushed my teeth and got dressed. ‘’Well look who got up.’’ my grandma yelled. My sister ruffled my hair. ‘’Hey bro.’’ my sister said sitting down for breakfast. I went and joined her. “Do you want cereal or french toast?” asked my grandma. “I’ll have cereal please.” I said. We all ate breakfast and packed some backpacks with waters and got on the road by 8:30. My sister sang a song I didn’t recognize. “What song is that?” I asked. “Heart of gold” she replied. “Never heard of it” I said. We pulled up to the
I had been begging my mom to take to take me to the library so I could pick out some books that I had an interest in reading. When my mom had finally found time to take me. I was bouncing up and down in my seat the whole way there clutching a piece of paper with the picture of the book I wanted that my mom helped me find on the libraries website. I remember walking in and seeing the colorful bindings on the shelves. The smell of books and the leather of the couches surrounded me, as I walked straight to the kids fantasy section. I was a girl on a mission. My eyes scanning the shelves looking for that colorful orange and blue binding I had heard so much about. When my eyes found that blue and orange binding I was looking for I ripped it from the shelves, and ran to my mom jumping up and down begging her to let me get it.I had never read a fantasy book before and I had wanted to read this book since the beginning of the school year. But my mom’s answer always had been “ When you finish your school books then you can read it.” That day in July I finally got what I had asked for, for seven months. As soon as I got home I ran upstairs and climbed up the ladder to the comfort of my bed on the top bunk. I leaned my back up against the wall, pulled my blankets over my legs, and started on the first chapter. The chapter title of The Boy Who Lived immediately grabbed my attention. As I started to read this book it was nothing like I had read before.
At the start of the new year at Options I just couldn't get it right. I was off task because I was using a computer;therefore I had a somewhat slow start.
I was sitting in my third grade classroom. Everything was quiet. It was kind of dark, because we used the sunlight more than the room lights. I wasn’t paying too much attention, for I had already done the math work, when the teacher said “Okay, class. Everyone get out a piece of paper, and write down whatever you are thinking while writing.” I panicked. I had no idea how to write a good essay on what I was thinking. I honestly wanted to keep what I was thinking to myself. I started to write down words that were randomly popping in and out of my head. I would pause every now and then because I would’ve stopped thinking words, and pulled out pictures. I was terrified that what I was doing wasn’t enough. Then, I heard a dreadful sentence.
For most of what I remember to be my middle school life, I tried my best not to become involved with any of the gossip and drama in the various networks of my class. Rarely did I ever engage in group conversations or even one-to-one conversations for that matter. In fact, any type and degree of social interaction seemed exhausting to me. Therefore, I usually stood away from the general population and kept to myself.
Frost, the only thing I saw out my bedroom window, kept me focused on my homework. Temperatures dropping so rapidly, it dropped twenty- five degrees in an hour. The temperatures, frigid, plumbing to negative fifteen by the time it was over. Sunday nights are for the procrastinators to do their homework, surprisingly, one is me. Suddenly cellphone vibrations filled the room, it was from one of my classmates. The picture message downloaded for a few minutes, and it stated, “If you think this girl is a w****, s***, and a b**** forward this on.” I sat there in a moment of silence, mice scurrying up and down the walls. Being a junior high student, I really didn’t put much though into it. You don’t think for your future you think for the time now. The message referred to one of my ex girlfriends, so that made me forward it on with out any thought. Making that decision shocked me for what awaited me at school the next day.