I Am Abigail Narrative

The five-minute warning bell goes off. I rush to my first class of my junior year, eager to see my classmates, who I was going to spend the rest of the 9 months with. I find myself stumbling into a classroom plastered with decorations of Denzel Washington with a Dr. Seuss book in his hand, a t and college flags galore. My AP English 11 class suddenly seemed so appealing to me. As a beautiful, curly haired short lady stood in front of me and said “Welcome to AP English 11,” I knew that I had found a treasure so much greater than just a pretty classroom. Little did I know, that short lady was going to inspire me throughout my challenge filled second-to-last year of high school.

Walking into Booth Middle School on the first day of seventh grade, all I wanted was a friend. I cared little about whether they would make an impact on my life; as a newcomer to Peachtree City, I was open to befriend anyone. Within the first week, I met Annabelle. I was so preoccupied with the excitement of having a new friend that I was unaware of how greatly she would impact not only my first day, first week, or first year of middle school, but how vastly she would affect my future.

The first year, the time to prove myself had arrived. Classes, rooms, teachers, and some students were unfamiliar. Eventually, minutes melted into hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. It didn’t take long before my schedule was routine, something of second nature. Humor and happiness were found in the form of my advisory family, where school was transformed into something more than going through the same motions of day to day activity. By the closing point of sixth grade, I was having a hard time letting go of what I’d adapted to. “What’s wrong?” my dad asked when I was getting into the car after being picked up early on the last day. I explained how distressed I was that my first year of middle school exceeded my expectations, and that it had to come to an end. Although his outlook viewed my reason for sorrow as trivial, I didn’t.

There is not a lot that you can immediately learn from the story of Abigail. However, by reading her story in 1 Samuel 25, and of course with a little “reading between the lines” we can actually gather a lot of insight into who Abigail was, and about Abigail's character. Abigail was a women who was: spirited, courageous, intelligent, and extremely wise. While Abigail may be a lesser known biblical figure, her story gives us invaluable insight and teaches us invaluable lessons on hard times, courage, and beauty.

I have two younger sisters named Carolina and Abigail. Abigail is 9 years old and Carolina is 10 years old and like all siblings, they occasionally fight. Usually, for silly reasons such as: stealing food or toys, not helping each other clean or sleep, or because one hit the other one.

“We were headed outside but before I could get out of the classroom I got shoved into the closet. I...I never got to see the sun…..” She trailed off before bursting into tears. The teacher's eyes immediately filled with sympathy for Margo and a thought crossed her mind; however, she immediately dismissed it for it was completely bizarre. Then the thought of this poor girl who was bullied simply because she remembered something that other students couldn’t.

As the story goes, it was my first day as a freshman at Poplar Bluff High School. As I stepped off the bus to my new school, I found myself unfamiliar and nervous. My first instinct was to find my friends on such a wide campus, but, class would be starting soon so I wouldn’t have time. “Guess I will just get to my first class early”, I thought to myself while walking in the shivering, cold weather.

It is just like any other day for Cathy Hurley, principal of Wylie E. Groves High School. She sat at her desk, blindly clicking through several emails, her tortoise glasses resting lazily on the tip of her nose. The sun was hidden behind several thick, grey clouds; it looked like it would snow later. The thought of getting new tires for the upcoming weather briefly crossed her mind when there was a sudden knock at the door, making her jump. She briefly fixed her glasses and smoothed down her hair before calling “Come in!”

I have raised my voice for, and will continue to raise my voice for, people less fortunate than myself. More specifically however, I often stand up for and help my autistic older sister, Abby. Ever since I can remember, I have felt obligated to fulfill my duty as a "little-big brother", because she is older than me. Whether it be taking her to school, taking her to baseball games, or playing "Dogoply" with her, I have tried to imprint a positive attitude on her so that she can continue to grow into an even greater person than she already is. One time after a football game junior year, I was hanging out with my classmates when the topic of Abby came up. They all talked about how they were the best of friends with her and how they loved her. Sure, all of

When growing up, the world can either take a hold of you or you can take a hold of the world. In this story, we find out about a young Christian teenage girl who life was taking its course on her as she was growing up and she soon found out that she’s the only problem she’ll ever have in this world and she’s the only solution. Krystal Channing was a 15 year old freshman at Stanley High School, located in Fairfax, Virginia. She wasn’t the least of all saints but she did have a pure heart. High School is where life began for Krystal Channing; where life hit her so hard and so quick that the world had completely devoured her without her notice.

Squeals pierce my eardrums as little girls talk about “loving” their boyfriends. The overbearing scent of Axe radiates off of every arrogant schoolboy who gallivants across the grounds and stops at my locker. Gossip flutters around me, seducing me into its inescapable vice. Such was Memorial Middle School when I first debuted in August, 2011. Going into sixth grade, I was the most popular girl in school. Although I may have had ebony hair and bubblegum lips, there was no hiding the ugliness of who I was: the meanest girl in school.

You’re probably wondering who’s writing to you. Well, this is you: Abby (NOT Abigail) Wieland. I’m writing this when there are 3½ days left in sixth grade. I know that you are in your room, packing and repacking your school supplies. You’re also terrified for your first year of middle school. It’s not as bad as you think. Nothing really changes, except there’s different teachers for every class. Most of the time, you’ll love middle school. Just like every year, though, there will be times when you hate it. Just warning you.

My first day of the second grade, I knew no one except the teacher and my younger brother. Kindergarten and first grade had been easy enough, but I was scared of the upcoming year. The only thing I knew about being the new kid was that it hadn’t panned out too great for Addie from the American Girl books. Mrs. Henson’s class was fairly quiet throughout the day, for most kids were nervous or tired. We neared the end of the day and I was ecstatic over the fact that hadn’t made a complete fool of myself. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I thought that that would be a challenge for another day. Unfortunately, that’s not what Mrs. Henson had in mind. She sent us all out to recess with a grin plastered on her face and with me practically kicking

The first month of transitioning from a home to a school environment can be a monumental change for any child. It is a circumstance that is both scary and exciting for most. The short story, “Charles” by Shirley Jackson, occurred during the 1950’s, at a young boy’s home and in his new kindergarten class. Laurie is a young, impressionable student who was attending his first year of school. Students in school need to feel special, protected, and receive attention from the teacher, but Laurie’s teacher did not seem to give him the reassurance he needed. At home, Laurie’s infant sibling was getting all the attention. While at school, Laurie did not adjust well in his new kindergarten class. This proved to be the cause of his new search for identity.

I was about to face my greatest challenge in my new life. How to fit in with people in middle school. Arriving in America was already hard to adjust, what more can it be with my school life. It was in August when my school started. I was already nervous, and I haven’t even step foot from this mysterious school that I’m about to spend 2 years of my life.