My First Day In School

The ache in my chest was building, and I felt all of the darkness inside of me build. The pressure was only intensifying and I knew that I had to do something, and quick.

1.Contact with members of the lower castes always reminded him painfully of this physical inadequacy

I could feel the blood pounding in my chest. Blackness crept into the fringes of my vision. My voice was hoarse from screaming; I didn’t remember screaming though.

Being born in December, I had to start school a year later. I hated this, though I was not that much older it still bothered me. I thought everyone was judging me because of my age, and the grade I was in. However, I knew that going to high school was my chance to graduate with my class. Throughout my freshman and sophomore year I pushed myself to come out of my shell; I went to my first dance, I joined the dance club, the softball team and sung for judges. The next year I was still determined to graduate early, so during registration I pleaded my case of why I wanted to graduate early. Another reason I really wanted to graduate early was because I was turning eighteen, and being adopted I knew my mom would no longer get help for me; as far as healthcare or food assistance. I was told that there was no guarantee that I would graduate early but just in case there was an opportunity I had an alternative schedule.

Have you ever met a person that you thought was the worst person in the world, but it turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Well, that is the feeling I got the first day of the 10th grade, when I first met my new homeroom teacher. It was the first day of school, and I was super amped. I was at the High school where I wanted to graduate from. The first day started off as normal as it could be. Everyone was standing around making sure they were being seen in their new fashions. I was more excited than they were, because I was finally able to transfer to the school where all my friends from the old neighborhood attended. This was going to be the best year ever, so I thought. The 8:00 a.m. bell rang for everyone to report to their first class, and as I walked to the door there was a lady standing there smiling and telling everyone entering the door, “Good Morning”. I knew at this point there was about to be a problem. Anyone that knows me, knows that I am not a morning person.

I felt my heart beating. It was fast and ready to explode. With every step my heart thudded louder.

I was in the bathroom getting ready for the first day of the third trimester of 8th grade, I was comfortably singing in my bathroom thinking I was alone. After getting ready I opened up the door and look in the hallway flustered to see my mom filming me singing. I was embarrassed and my cheeks turned bright red as I ran towards the front door to jump into my shoes and catch the bus. I went to school and it was a regular day, I had new classes and one of them was with my favorite teacher, Mrs. Gates. I never thought I would build up the confidence to sing infront of people ever but Mrs. Gates but i started to rethink that when my teacher told the class that at the end of this week on friday we will have auditions for a solo of the choir. I felt this uneasiness in my stomach and thought I was about to embarrass myself by throwing up in front of the whole class. I went the whole day just thinking about that solo.

It’s August 18th, the first day of school. Many children are not as eager to start classes, as they are to catch up with classmates after the summer. Students then begin to leave the courtyard and explore the route to their first class; memories of last year’s terrible lunch menus resurface, and schedules are then eagerly exchanged amongst friends in effort to revel in the success of the perfect schedule. Generally, first period comes equipped with the perfect group of friends, the easiest course, and most importantly, the laziest “pushover” teacher. Unfortunately, for students assigned to her classroom, this first day of school will leave a lasting impression on the minds of 30 multicultural/diverse students in tenth grade English. She opens her classroom door; the new 10th grade teachers’ walls are covered with things to look at, things to provoke inspiration. She provides an introduction, one of her person, as well as one of her classroom’s conduct and expectations; the new tenth grade teacher then asks a student to volunteer sitting in her eclectically upholstered Indian fabric bearing chair in the middle of the classroom,and with an impressionable smile says, “your turn”.

It 's funny what it 's you remember as a child. I don 't remember my third birthday or my first day of school, I don’t remember running around the playground or what my favorite food was. But I remember very clearly the day my cat died. It 's been 10 years since, and still the most memorable memory of my childhood.

I hold back a flood of tears, as I reluctantly walk up the unfamiliar block-like steps of the mustard yellow bus, while waving my mother goodbye. I choose an empty, patched up seat close to the bus driver. I can hear the jumbled up voices of many others on the bus, but I cannot understand a single word. I sit alone with my mouth sealed shut with a lump forming in my throat, and I cannot help but feel like the black sheep of the family. This feeling only worsens as I arrive to school, the building with small hallways, white walls, and the scent of pencil shavings and hand sanitizer. I long to play with the rest of the energetic children, but I stay put as I know I won’t understand them and they won’t understand me.

“Oh of course, being late to class is always a pleasure” I kept telling myself as I made way down the maze of hallways to finally find my psychology class. Walking in I quickly looked for a place to sit and I found an empty seat in the front corner of the room. The seat was by the window, which I knew, that would come in handy if I thought the class was boring, plus it helped that nobody was sitting there except for one person. Once I placed my bag down and got myself situated, I suddenly recognized the boy sitting beside me. My anxiety took over my body and tension in the room grew thick as he turned to face me and saw the girl who had once broken his heart.

Throughout my life I experienced a lot of firsts: first words, first steps, first day of school, but nothing could ever prepare me for my first time in sin city. Out of all the places in the world that I wish to explore, I chose to visit the legendary, Las Vegas. My friends and I wanted to voyage out to this magnificent city, since it was the last summer before our senior year. The night before, my friends and I were too busy to sleep. We were planning and packing, so we would have everything ready for the next day. Even if we wanted to sleep the excitement was too much to bare and we just could not keep our eyes shut. I was excited to see how the colorful city looked in person and how it felt to be in another state. Seeing as it was everyone’s first time in Vegas, we were determined to make the trip memorable.

My alarm startles me as I get out of bed. My shades are shut, no sun shines through. My first day of school ever and the first day that I have to officially get up out of bed early. I smell the pancakes and sausage sneaking through the crack underneath my door. My first day of school and I have no clue what to wear or how to act. I go downstairs and dad automatically greets me with a hug and a smile.

I remember the day so vividly, like it was yesterday. My family and I lived in a small, two story house, in the middle of town. I woke up that morning, for my very first day of school. I got out of bed and walked past my little brothers room, then past my parents and to the bathroom. I showered, brushed my and then my teeth. I walked back to my room and got ready for my first day of school. I had just turned three and my mom wanted to put me in preschool right away. I walked down the spiral staircase, ( my favorite part of the house). When I got down stairs my mom was making breakfast. My little sisters and brother awake, with my mom down stairs waiting for me. My younger brother and sister were waiting at the table for me.

I woke up alarmed and breathing heavy. Fear coursed through my veins. Was it from the recurring nightmare I had for the past week or what was to come that day? I didn't know. Both seemed pretty bad to me and I wished neither of them would have to happen, but they did. That day I had my first day of school. I wouldn't mind if it would have been the year before, this year was different though. This past summer was the hardest thing I've done. I had to say goodbye to everything. My friends, my home, everything that ever made me happy. The only thing that I brought with me was my very precisely chosen wardrobe of cool toned shirts and expensive bottoms and my old and useless cat Luna. Our new house was on the edge of town, the richer side. But that didn't mean anything to me, neither did my dad’s new job. Nothing about this new start made me happy. I was perfectly fine in our old home, I had tons of friends and I was close with all the girls on my softball team. Everyone in the town knew me, and I knew everyone. The only person from our new town I knew was the sweet old lady who lived next door who brought cookies the day we moved in. She was a lot older than my parents even, probably in her seventies, but looked a bit younger with all the makeup she wore. She looks nice, but also like a typical rich older woman with all the expensive brands and jewelry she wore. Everyone in this neighborhood is like that though, and I feel out of place. I'm not usually the type of person to