Descriptive Essay About School

When I saw my friends walking toward me, that’s when I finally stepped into the building. As I walked into the building, I was astonished by how enormous the school was compared to my middle school. Some teachers welcomed me to the new school, and asked me if I needed any help finding the classrooms, while the other teachers were too busy typing on their computers. The moment when I entered my homeroom, it surely was much bigger than the one at my old school, the room makes me feel more comfortable with the new environment because the teacher was very friendly and very professional because of well-prepared clothes, and the way she talked. I finally realized that I have entered the world of reality, such as passing all my classes and graduate high school, then off to

The morning was foggy and I could see the front of my school through my window. It was a nice sight to see. I walked into the kitchen to make myself a bowl of cereal and there she was with her head down on the table. I could tell that she arrived a couple of hours ago because the tears hadn’t dried from her cheeks yet. I got myself ready gave her a kiss on her forehead and headed off to school. I had walked into class eager to see what my teacher Mrs. Padron had in store for today. Every single day there was something new to learn and there’s something about that infinite nature of learning that really appealed to me as a child. I cherished those 7 hours I spent in class the most I could and I dreaded the mere thought of having to go home where I would have to face the

And so when I am thirteen, one weekday in June, I am on my way to school to take an official state exam. There I am, standing at the bus stop, waiting. And at that moment a classmate of mine, a friend who lives walking distance from the school, here she comes. I wave to her, I expect her to wait for the bus with me, but she says she isn’t going. She’s going to the beach, she says, which is just a few blocks away as well. And she invites me along. I look out at the street, nervously. I look back at her.

Music Plays behind us. The bass upon the speaker fill the room. Kai and I wait, silence between us but music fills the air around. The room, a little messy, dribbled paint on the floor, and the smell of Acrylic and pencil shavings linger. The bell for lunch breaks both the music barrier and silence. Kai and I are awakened from out daydream.

¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬¬This is stone creek junior high school home to the stampede. Where our staff will help your kid with what ever they need. The school was built in 2006 and is still looks brand new the school gets new teachers when one retires get sick the nusre will help your kid when they don’t feel to well the colors here are red and black it is a good school to put your kids in when they are ready

The smell of wood from pencils ,unused books, girly perfume, are strong I smelt it as soon as I walked in. That nervous gaze on the students is relaxing knowing that I wasn’t the only person in the room that is nervous is relaxing.This is the first day of my seventh grade year. Not knowing what to expect is frightening. As I sit down I peek around and notice that there is no color in the room. The teacher looks aged and strict,I peek around and see posters of world war one and other historical events.I see a friend she immediately after walking in sat next to me. During class Bryanna and I had made a new friend she had black glasses,dark jeans, and a grey uniform shirt. She sat beside us and the three of us made conversation after she asked

It was a Tuesday afternoon and the heat in Mr. Martin's room felt as if we were next to the sun. The schools maintenance crew always kept the furnace on the highest setting possible. “So class what did we talk about yesterday ?” said Mr. Martin as he takes out the 590 page textbook on accounting and finance. “We talked about how to find assets, liabilities and owners equity,” says Ms. Know” it all in the front of the classroom.” As Mr. Martin begins his lesson, I quietly whisper to my best friend Jake, “Hey man, did you do the homework from last night?” “Nope, I forgot to read the chapter and finish the worksheet. I Kinda got side tracked playing Battlefield” said Jake. Then Mr. Martin Stood up and said “ Alright, now I'm going to come around

On the farm, where I, Emu Krayze, live, lives not only my family, but also a great number, about twenty, of chicken. You see, that is the problem. My whole family, including parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and even siblings, are chicken. But me? I am just an ordinary, old fashioned emu, who does no good. I often fear that I was adopted! I have tried everything to transform myself into a chicken, or at least look like one, but can never manage to do it.

Girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing. Weekend has arrived and the hallways of the school were filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Every ear filled with the sound of multiple conversations going off at once, lockers opening and closing, music blasting without. I had managed to push past the constant stream of children and to the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As I walked my footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of me in the cold ground. I saw my friends faraway chattering and fooling around. I was stuck in the wrong crowd; they are nothing like me but somehow I am still friends with them. I slowly made my way up to my “so called friends”.

In my bedroom closet, folded and tucked neatly in a box, is a blanket. At a glance, the piece of patchwork looks rather mundane. As one looks closer, “blanket” is a rather generous word for the piece, considering it is a part of an unfinished project. So why keep this small scrap of fabric? It provides warmth, not to my appendages, rather to my soul.

The sickly sweet smell of hot summer air is so thick I can almost taste it as it enters my nose and I’m instantly transported back to a little North Carolina college town. The radio and air conditioning start to fade away as I open the car door to the sounds of birds chirping and teenagers chatting. I couldn’t tell what is sweeter the freedom of being out of the car or the ice cream threatening to come back up. I walk around the car to meet mom and she just gives me a look that I know means she can tell I’m nervous. It’s not like the opportunity to stay on a college campus two states away from home comes everyday. Sure I’ve been on sleep away trips but sure those were maybe a week, this would be three and those were before the awkward middle school phase set in. I was ready to try at least so I reassure her with a smile and start walking.

“I never in my life would have thought this would happen to me,” Jada says, her voice starting to crack though she remains calm. Her sad but warm hazel eyes start to tear up; still, it is hard to believe that she experienced such an event. Jada, about 5’4,” 135 pounds, has a small waist that hugs her hips, long dark curly hair, with smooth toffee-colored skin, and medium peach-colored pouty lips in a round face with slightly chubby cheeks.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Lexie looked at the clock, alarmed at what she saw. It was 6:30 and she has overslept her alarms. She jumped out of bed, throwing all her blankets on the ground and ran into the ice cold, frigid shower giving it no time to warm up. Even though she was hurrying, she was not looking forward to another school day. When she got out she brushed her dark brown hair, which took a half an hour to dry because of its long length. She then got dressed first putting on her dark blue, holy, Hollister Jeans that barely made it to the ankles of her long legs. Next, she put on her favorite black scarf that felt like cotton along with a white sweater underneath.

Each Friday morning, during football season, I wake up with butterflies in my stomach. I wake up knowing that I have a football game that night. Football Fridays, for me, are usually filled with excitement, stress, anxiety, and nervousness. I wake up and put my jersey on as I think about the long stress and excitement-filled day I have ahead of me. The day starts off with the elementary halls favorite event, the Colonel Walk. Every Friday morning the football team lines up behind the band, cheerleaders, and dance team to walk the very halls we did every school day in elementary. We shake hands, high-five, and hug the students that look up to us as upperclassman and the teachers that helped make us the young adults that we have become.

I was very shy walking into the E room doors, after hours. Since I never participated in any extracurricular activities, it was kind of abnormal for me to be in the school past dark. It was 6 p.m thursday night, and all of the contestants sat on the floor anxiously awaiting for tryouts to begin. No one spoke, or moved, and for a while everyone just looked around, examining each other. Two men began to walk into the door, and I can hear my heart pounding a mile a minute, boom, boom, boom! However, to my surprise, the mood oddly began to shift as they stood in front of us. They were unlike anyone I ever met.