A Short Story : A Narrative Story

Standing in that long, obscure hallway, I could feel my stomach turning over and over like the sea on a stormy night. “What did I get myself into this time?” I thought to myself as I investigated each of my competitors waiting their turn to compete. I had worked tirelessly to prepare myself for today. The hours consumed typing and retyping a speech that had to have just the right phrasing. I had my mother and two of the best teachers I knew proofread speech and give me honest feedback. I ran through my speech numerous times, so much so that I was sure I could recite it in my sleep. I even rehearsed responses to the hypothetical questions the judges might ask me, and listened to my speech on repeat for two hours on the bus. It all came down to this. My opportunity to present at the West Virginia State FBLA Competition was a few minutes away. I sought to place at the State’s not only for myself and my club, but also for my mother. Prior to getting out of the car this morning, she gave me one of her famous pep talks to set me on my way. After that and months

As I walked out of what I thought would be one of my last classes, my mom handed me something. It was a bright pink sheet of paper. As I read through it, I thought my eyes would pop out of my head. I couldn’t believe it! That one line literally changed my life. “Students receiving this letter will now begin to prepare to go on pointe.” I thought I could cry. I had waited

I was standing with hundreds of my peers in an extremely claustrophobic and humid hallway, awaiting to receive my high school diploma. My hands trembled as I slowly walked alongside the podium where my principal quietly congratulated me and handed me my diploma. As I proceeded to my assigned seat, I gawked at the high quality piece of paper that seemed insignificant at the time, but would knowingly open many doors for me in the future. I was nervous. Nervous about walking down a path without a final destination, all alone.

The sun rose in a pool of crimson and gold, spilling light all over the land and the white clouds. From freezing night, it turned to scorching day as the sun climbed towards its zenith. The sunsets have been glorious lately, all rosy and salmon- pink. It was the day of my graduation the excitement rushed like an adrenaline throughout my body I was thrilled that I reached a milestone in my lifetime. All of the sudden the jubilant scenery turned into a melancholy one as the ceremony proceeded. It was from this moment that I realized that my life of adulthood would commence.

Fading in and out of sleep she heard music outside her door, but she didn’t have the strength to open her eyes. Then a silky, warm hand slipped into hers and squeezed it. She knew the familiar feel of her daughter, and Stacie’s body melted into the moment, all 46 years of it. “It’s okay mom”, Mackenzie whispered, “you’re seeing your daughter graduate, I love you”. The room filled with the marching sound of pomp and circumstance as the

The valedictorian is missing. I was running around the house looking for my tassel. My graduation could not be tassel-less. I was overwhelmed. I’d worked so hard, gone the extra mile, had sleepless nights all in preparation for this one day. Time was running out. The principal was blowing up my mom's phone while my friends were blowing up mine. Digging through drawers, searching my mom’s car, and retracing steps filled up my morning. One bundle of string decided to hide on the day it was most needed. My mother, my tassel-less graduation cap, and I rushed into the car and headed to my middle school. My anxiety was starting up. Where had time gone? I took a deep breath. I grasped the knob of the eighth grade homeroom. Eyes were burning holes into my face. Ms. Clark, the worrier, grasped my hands. I could tell she was relieved. She signaled me to take a seat. My friends laughed and then walked over and gave me a hug. Ms. Clark began counting the eighth graders to make sure everyone was there. All of the eighth-grade teachers then exited the building to make sure City Hall was ready for the graduating class.

Was I supposed to be happy or sad, or maybe both? I felt ecstatic that I had made it this far, however I was devastated that I would soon have to leave the comfort of the known. That warm, some may say oppressive, 90F days was the perfect time to take a walk across the stage. The sound of my name being called echoed across the field and I started my walk. Too many people stood between me and my diploma. One handshake and then another and finally I had it. The blue leather book was mine. It was so smooth and contained all of my hard work. The word “Windham High School” were embossed in golden yellow, almost the color of the yellow M&M’s. I had finally done it. The teachers lined the walkway, like proud parents. I could feel tears starting to well up, having to say “Thank You”; with a simple walk my joyous days became somber. I realized that no matter what mistakes I made or even how well I did I still made it to

Adam's eyes were cast down upon the floor, and Tyler was whispering to him. The Kings Highschool's Valedictorian and Salutatorian were two of her best friends, and just seeing them on stage together made her become misty eyed. She almost missed her seat, but luckily Parker pulled her to a clumsy stop into the seat next to him. Tyler had worked so hard to reach Valedictorian, from stressing over every test that he had taken that year to even worrying that Adam's class president status would ruin him. However, he was glad to have found that his hard work had paid off, and he had immediately began to work his speech. Adam, had pulled the Salutatorian position with ease. His grades were just after Tyler's in showing that he too had done well his highschool years. His graduation gown did sport a few more cords than Tyler's though. Soccer captain, president, and things as small as being a member of the yearbook committee was shown in the twisting colors atop his black robes. Finley beamed proudly as she watched him look across the crowd. His eyes caught hers, and she watched as his shoulders visibly settled from their up tight

"Welcome, to the 200th send off ceremony for our graduating class of 2018!". Mrs Kalani's voice could be heard all over the speakers strategically placed at every corner of the send off hall. "I would like to call up our valedictorian, Valley High's Miss Bishi". I walked over to Mrs Kalani with a huge smile on my face. Of course, I was nervous; a simple test was going to dictate the place I would spend the next four years of my life.

To begin I will start in alphabetical order.” She glanced down at the white piece of printer paper with a list of names written in the blue ink of her favorite pen. Her shiny grey hair and glasses gleamed in the light as she read from the page aloud, “If you have been called up, please step forward.” As she was nearing the end of the list I heard my name as clear as day, “And Kate.” I slowly arose and walked to the front of the silent, still class. We stood in a line facing our friends like a marching band, or soldiers. Suddenly the room filled with cheers and claps as loud as thunder, “ CONGRATULATIONS. WELCOME TO THE TEAM! But this process is far from over, and whoever is left will be sent to PERFORM IN THE

His graduate day had been as heavenly as his dreams of his mother Alexander occasionally still had. He had graduated top of his class and gave a length speech that brought people to tears and eventually to sleep. After everyone had received their diploma, the head-town-council member had given Alexander a box with the couple thousand dollars the town had gathered for him. Not expecting anything, Alexander broke down in tears and hugged to council member.

I paced back and forth as I waited for my turn to go on stage. It was graduation day and it was only a matter of seconds before I had to give my valedictorian speech. I was going to have to say goodbye to the school that had the biggest impact in my life.

Today is the day that I have been both eagerly and anxiously awaiting since the first day of freshman year: my valedictorian speech. I am sitting among hundreds of other students who are equally as prepared to receive their diploma and start their college careers as I. I am well aware that the last thing over four hundred teenage students want to do on a scorching summer day is sit and listen to my fifteen minute speech. I soon hear my queue from Mr. Joven, the principle, and begin to head towards the stage. Within the thirty seconds that it takes to rise from my seat and pass through the twenty other students in my row to the end of the aisle, a sensation of panic consumes my body. I feel my pulse bounding at every possible location, my hands sweating, and my legs trembling. Nothing is scarier than feeling that you are going to pass out. In this moment, it is difficult for me to decipher whether this panic attack is due to my enormous fear of public speaking, the heat, or a combination of both. I decide that it is a combination of both, but continue heading towards the stage as there is nothing I can do to escape. In an effort not to fall, I slowly walk up the five steps to the stage while tightly gripping onto the handlebar. I finally get onto the stage and walk towards the podium where I lay my speech. I look out to the audience, which from the stage looks more like a pool of a million dots, than it does people.

When I entered that classroom I knew that I was going to end up having a nervous breakdown in the middle of my performance, but I didn’t expect the tears. I reached a point in my speech where I just suddenly stopped talking. I couldn’t take the panic and fear anymore, so tears started to fall. This moment felt like it lasted a lifetime, and all I wanted to do was run out that door, but I knew that I had to get it together. I somehow pulled myself together, choked

Stepping upon a simple stage was the best thing I could have ever done. Overseeing the multitude that was there to witness my every word, every tremble, every emotion, and every heart beat, was then that I realized that the sentiment was real. It was essentially the end of time and I could not bear to hold back what I no intentions of doing. Cry. Tears of joy darted down my face as I walked across the stage and received my ultimate gift. With fancy inscription, my gift was entitled “Class of 2009”. I had just graduated.