I Am A Liar - Original Writing

The familiar aroma of coffee fills the air as I enter the not so common area. I feel very bewildered in the labyrinth of hallways searching for my classroom just like I had stepped into corn maze as a child. At last, I locate the secluded room tucked away inside the massive building. Even though the number on the door matches the number on my schedule I am still second guessing if I am in the right place. The door opened up as students poured out. Finally, I took my seat at the back, trying my hardest to sit down unnoticed. My hands were shaking as I wrote the class name at the top of my paper. After what seemed like ages the professor proceeded to

I walked into the classroom and started setting down chairs and wiping down tables. Ms. Justine was getting excited pulling out the children’s shirt that they had tie died the day before. Ms. Alyssa liked the shirts. Lucy F. came in first and Ms. Justine said “Lucy F. what do you think should I give you your shirts now or later today?” Lucy F. said “I think you should give them now.” Ms. Justine gave Lucy F. and Lucy F.’s mother their shirts as they held them up and looked at them. Lucy F. said “It’s so pretty.” Chase came in and asked to see his shirt and then Manaf, Lucy B., and Assel all came in and asked to see their shirts. Mr. Scott went out and got the rest of the class including Lucas, Jason, Ryker, and Jacob. I asked Lucas what he had

I am going to argue why lying is immoral no matter who you might be lying to, friends, family, and even someone you do not know. This is immoral because even though lying to someone may bring relief or happiness it’s still hiding the truth from that person. Hiding something they deserve to know even though it may hurt them may also be a form of lying. There are many situations where lying may end friendships, relationships, or even tare families apart because most people want to know the truth no matter how harsh, because eventually the truth may come out. In addition to hiding information, there are also other forms of lying. Telling someone false information as well as withholding information are forms of lying. The worst part about telling a lie is that the more you do it the more comfortable one may become. Lying becomes a habit to many people, a habit they have a hard time breaking. Lying can simply be defined in one word, deception.

At 1:00 p.m. I entered into Evoline C. West Elementary school on Thursday, July 12 2012 for an interview with Mrs. Yolanda Lawrence. As I entered the classroom, I was greeted by Mrs. Lawrence, the head teacher in this classroom. Mrs. Lawrence has no assistant at this present because of it being in the summer. After I entered into the classroom, the entire class welcomed me with “hello Ms. Flournoy”. It made my day to see all of those smiley faces greeting me. This was a 2nd grade classroom which consisted of 17 students of which 8 were girls and 9 were boys. This interview and observation was a total of 2

As I am walking down the hall to Ms.Johnson’s room, I see something different. There is a sub today. I just really hope she isn’t as mean as she looks. When I walk into the classroom I get my folder and go to my assigned seat to start my “do now”. When the teacher walks in she says,”Everyone sit down and don’t make a noise unless you want a step!”

I attended school regularly, associating myself with the same group of friends. Social statues were not yet established at such a young age, although there was one girl in my class named Shanese who nobody ever seemed to associate themselves with. She was new to the school; quiet, unobtrusive and she always seemed to have a melancholy attitude. Similarly to many other students in the class, I disregarded Shanese and continued with my normal activities until one day when I decided to pursue my curiosity about this discreet girl. It was time for recess, and I told my other friends to go to the swings without me. Instead of following them, I made an effort to introduce myself to Shanese and invite her to the see-saw with me. She agreed, with a seemingly uncertain response, most likely because nobody had ever approached her in such a way. As we silently made our way through the tire pellets to

Part 1: To be perfectly honest, I’ve never had a time where I have felt very isolated or very included in a school setting, well not a time that is particularly memorable. But, from talking to my friend, Caroline, she remembers her senior year of high school she was had a writing class and the majority kids in that class were the “cool/popular kids.” She recalls many instances where her teacher, Mrs. Upadhyay, would mock or make fun of the questions she would ask or the comments she would make in class. There was one instance where there were a group of popular boys in class and they were insanely chatty. Her teacher never asked them to stop talking but when Caroline turned to her partner to ask a question she was immediately called out. Another instance was when Mrs. Upadhyay was lecturing and a lightbulb went off in Caroline’s head. She thought she would say something that would really impress the class and help them understand the lecture. She raised her hand, when her teacher saw it instead of calling on her she chose to ignore her. Caroline thought it was okay though, she would wait until Mrs. Upadhyay was finished. Shortly there after, a popular boy raised his hand and she stopped her lecture to call on him. Caroline was completely appalled by this. She immediately cut off the

Susan McConnell is the only junior in an english class full of seniors. Among the students, there is David Ruggles, Mark Kinney, Jeff Garrett, and Betsy Cline. David is the president of the senior class, Jeff is the tallest guy on the basketball team, Betsy is the head cheerleader, and Mark is Jeff’s best friend, and very mysterious. All of them aren’t very fond of their teacher, Mr. Griffin. Mark, Jeff, and Betsy hatch a plan to scare Mr. Griffin into going easier on them and giving better grades, so they don’t fail his class. They get Dave in, and Dave convinces Sue to join, to be the decoy. Their plan doesn’t go as aimed and Mr. Griffin is found dead by Sue and Dave. Mark comes up with a scheme to hide the body in the mountains and get rid of the car, while Sue thinks they should tell someone. Mark gets her to calm down and convinces her to stay quiet.

The big meaning in the short story of T. C. Boyle’s “The Lie” is that Lonnie feels very awkward about his situation. Everything starts with a morning in which Lonnie can’t bear his job and needs a break. Lonnie gets into a situation where he creates a little lie which gets enormous with a snowball effect. Lonnie’s relationship with the people around him plays a significant role in this story. However, Lonnie looks lost and is depressed because of the change that happened in his life.

It was my first class, of my first day, of my first year at Sartell High School. As a freshman, everything about high school is nerve wracking. Simply just looking at an upper classman would send chills throughout your spine. Basically, school was prison at the time (metaphor). Every freshman would walk into their classes, crossing their fingers, and wishing to see one of their friend’s vibrant faces. I clearly remember that day; I trudged through the halls with some of my very best friends, and we tried to find our first classes. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies swam up my nose (personification); I then realized that I must be close to my first class, foods and nutrition. Standing outside the room, I look in and notice the room was white and vacant (Participial Phrase). My stomach dropped to the floor; I knew nobody in this class. I quickly glanced around the bare room, looking for a familiar face. The only other girl in my grade was absolutely the last person I would want to share this class with. She looked like somebody I would not normally want to associate with, conceited and stuck up. With rapid, quiet feet, I walked into the classroom, and I heard the rustling of papers (Prepositional Phrase). This could only mean one thing, a seating chart. I scurried through the chart and found my spot. Of course, I sat next to her, the cruelest girl in school,

We are sometimes manipulated into buying these products because it will work wonders or make us feel good about ourselves, well I could say that some products are good heck even amazing. However, there are those that are just plain wrong that are so egger to sell the product just to make profit off of us, not caring whether we are content with how it works. Have you ever wondered why the advertisements just keep repeating sometimes well it’s like they are just planting it in your head about this product that they are trying to sell you and that you must have according to the advertisers. According to writer Sienna Kossman she states how advertisers operate and how they get the consumers to buy the product she say that the way they get them

I feel a warm presemce on the back of my neck. I turn and find the guy who came in late. He points to my seat, then himself. I shake my head and turn back. Again, he taps me and motion to my seat and then himself. I once again ignore him and return to my conversation with my brother. Before the guy can disturb me again the bell rings and the class starts to empty. I grab my bag and head towards the door.

Then I went to language and sat down next to Makenzi, Taylor, and Itzel. Makenzi gave me a piece of gum and the rest of class consisted of reading a stupid story. Then Mrs. Morrone told us our homework which was a work book page. 10 minutes after that she dismissed us and I stopped at my locker. I opened it with ease and took out my science textbook and workbook. I sat down next to Taylor and we talked about our science fair project, which is due in January. All of a sudden, Mrs. Dainton screamed out, “Ah, a spider!” The whole class laughed and screamed. Mrs. Dainton took off her black shoe and tried to hit the spider, but she missed. She aimed again and finally hit it. She told us to quiet down and do our homework, we didn’t. Makenzi continued to laugh and make jokes. “Makenzi, come here,” yelled Mrs. Dainton. Makenzi didn’t so she got a referral. When Makenzi left, the class quieted down and continued working. Mrs. Dainton quietly dismissed us and I stayed because that’s where I have advisory. I worked on homework, and when I was done I read my book. The book I’m reading is called “After Eli”. The bell rung, I put up my chair, and I

I almost pass out. I go back to the real world and head to my seat. The teacher said that we were going to get a new student last week, but I didn’t think much of it. In the class, the seats are arranged in pairs of two. Jane was sitting alone. The second bell rung and the class quieted down and waited for Mrs. Flaherty to do the attendance. It turns out, the person that I was assigned to’s grandmother had passed away on the previous Friday, and today was her funeral. After the teacher finished the attendance, she looked at me and said. “Hey Holden, why don’t you sit next to Jane? She’s new, and needs someone to sit with. And since Adam’s out, you need someone to sit with.” Jane picked her head up and she looked at me with delight. I could tell she was really excited, because she slightly twitched her nose. She has been doing it since she and I were kids. I sat down next to her, and we chewed the fat for two minutes before class started. Every time we talk, she kills me. She always has an new, interesting story every time we see each other. After Mrs. Flaherty taught us a third lesson on plagiarism, we went up to get a worksheet about plagiarism that was to be completed before the end of class. I sat back down with Jane trailing. We get started and one of the school’s many jocks threw an eraser at the

English’s classroom was right beside the stairs and she was extremely strict in every way, but especially about being quiet as we traveled the stairways and hallways of the school building. My friends and I were about halfway up the stairs when two boys burst through the top doors and pounded down the stairs as they talked loudly to each other. We stopped, our mouths gaped open, watching them descend the stairs and exit the bottom doors to the outside. Just at that moment Mrs. English entered the stairwell. She was extremely upset about the noise and disruption to her class. She saw us girls making our way upstairs and pointed at us saying, “You there, into my classroom at once!”. You see, Mrs. English’s punishment for making noise in the stairwell was to sit on the floor in the back of her classroom through the entire recess period. I was devastated. My friends and I were not the guilty party. Couldn’t she we were innocent? Didn’t she know my friends and I weren’t rule-breakers? In fact, we were all 3 hall monitors and, when on duty, helped to keep the rowdier kids from being noisy and running in the halls. She didn’t even ask if we were being noisy, or if any other kids had come through the stairwell. She was just angry at being disrupted and looking for someone to blame. We were her victims, the ones made to pay for misbehavior of two boys who seemed to be oblivious to any rules or to Mrs. English consequences for