Locker-Personal Narrative

After I had settled, the first call came through, my phone rang for three times and there was no reaction from the people studying. After some minutes, he called again, and my phone rang for six times, and I did not answer, and the people in the room did not alert me the phone was ringing. Lastly, during the third call, the phone rang again and finally one of the persons alerted me the phone was ringing. After he had told me, I stepped out of the room like I was going to see who was calling and maybe called them back.

I frantically searched my desk, underneath my chair, and inside my backpack, and it wasn’t before long that my classmates began snickering. Confused, I demanded to know why they were laughing. At first, they didn’t bother to answer me, and instead continued in their self-sustained amusement. After being harassed for the entire school year, this was the last straw for me; the panic induced by my missing belongings and the increasing frustration of being ignored pushed me into a very desperate state of fight or flight mode. However, in this case, I chose to both fight and

I walked down the hallway, pacing myself. I was expecting someone to shriek in horror or someone to push me to the ground. To my surprise, everyone just kept on talking and ignored me. A couple of kids glanced in my direction and smirked at me. My best friend gushed at how cool my glasses were. My teacher didn't even glance at me twice when he told me to sit down.

Biting my lip, blood spills in my mouth from trying to contain my rage. He just wants a reaction, nothing more. He just wants to get under my skin.

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.

Walking into the classroom, something just didn't seem right. The lights were out, blinds closed, and only one shadowy figure sat at the teacher’s desk. Just by the shape of the figure I could tell it wasn’t my teacher. A chill swept through the room making the hairs on my neck stand up. I began to sweat and my hands shook. I stood, staring at the shadow at the front of the room. I finally built up enough courage to mutter out “Who are you?” The figure then spoke with a deep, threatening voice “I think you know who I am!” This was true, I had met the figure a few years ago. I tried to escape the past, but it caught up to me. “How did the school let you in?” I asked. “Do you really think that I would come in here with permission?

Finally, winter break was over and it was time for school. During the morning time, everyone from the school goes to the cafeteria to eat breakfast or just to talk to friends before class starts. When I walked in, I saw everyone looking at me and wondering to myself that everyone knows the knew. There was an open table and I decided to sit there and wait for Preston to come. While waiting, I was looking through the evidence on my phone and thinking to myself what I am going to say to

There were many people staring. People that I do know and people that I don’t know were staring. There was not a lot of interactions that occurred. In some classes, people made comments while in other classes there weren't any comments made. A teacher and a few students complimented my outfit. A student asked if my outfit was inspired by the clothing that was worn in the 1950s. Another student complimented my shoes. A teacher said she liked my outfit and also said "pretty in pink" referring to the skirt I wore. There were not any punishments for violating a social norm of

There are 1200 students at Roanoke High School, all crowded into a brick building that looks more like a Lego sculpture than a school. I walk past lockers and drinking fountains and doors, and every few seconds, someone brushes my shoulder, mostly by accident, I think. Girls who are touching up their makeup in front of small, magnetic mirrors look disgusted by me as I walk past. Boys in jerseys or Hollister sweatshirts stare at me as they pass, sizing me up with vigilant eyes. Sometimes, I meet their gaze and wonder if I could beat them up. I bet I could, most of them anyway.

I didn’t notice my body shaking until I saw my pointer finger tremble nervously as it hovers over the doorbell. I have nothing to be afraid of, I know that. I’ve rung this doorbell countless times before. I’ve even skipped the entire process and just let myself in more times than that. I have nothing to be afraid of. I push my finger hard against the cold, metal center of the bell. I can feel my finger being imprinted by its rigid texture. Quickly, I drop my finger and shove my hands into the pockets of my denim jacket. Now, all I can do is wait. I can feel the contents of my oversized hoodie’s pockets through the denim and cotton that separated my hands from them, wrapping my grip around everything to make sure I didn’t forget anything important.

"I'm lucky cause I won't die alone," I mutter. Although, I know she heard me cause of her small chuckles.

My alarm shrieks piercingly through the air, and my eyelids fly open. I carelessly toss my covers aside, and begin my morning routine. Five minutes before my bus arrives I begin to rush out of the house. “Don’t forget I’m picking you up at school early today so we can go to Miami,” my mom reminds me on my way out. “Sure, okay,” I toss back at her and close the door. Just like any other school day, I traveled the day with laughs, semi focusing in classes, and other teenage fanatics. Like in most high schools, when inside the school walls there is this false sense of security that overcomes each student. Most believe that nothing can hurt them, and that nothing will happen. Failing to realize that no one is invincible and things can change at the blink of an eye. As the day proceeds, I approach my least favorite class, Biology. There was never a day that I didn’t complain about how much I hated that class and how I could not wait to leave. But today was different; It wasn’t as dreadful because this would be the period that my mom would pick me up. Fifteen minutes later, I was back to my old ways, whispering “I cannot wait to get out of here!” to my neighbor who felt the same way I did. Finally, I heard over the loud speaker: “Roshonda Bissainthe to the office” and a smile creeped across my

I quickly run and jump into my car before he sees me standing there. I look over and could see him visibly through the side windows of the car next me. He appears to be trying to fix the truck which must have broken down. His face looks flustered as he wipes his greasy hands on a faded red rag and throws it on the engine.

”Great” I mumbled they took my money I was going to us for lunch this was the 4 time this has to happen to me.I twist my hands on the old lock then locked my locker and pulled up my hoodie,and tied up my combat boots ,right up to my patterned leggings, as I ran to class hiding my face.

Suddenly, there was a hush in the room. The teacher had asked someone a question! I tried to seem casual as I glanced up to see if I was the unlucky person who had been called upon. My heart jumped and then I realized that the teacher was looking at the person to my right, waiting expectantly for an answer. I stared at the girl also, as if I was truly interested in whatever ramblings might come out of her mouth about the dead general and his battle. I felt my face grow warm with a slight blush as I became embarrassed for her and her inability to answer the question. She must have been paying as much attention to the lecture as I had been. Finally, she was able to formulate a less than mediocre answer that satisfied the monotone voice at the front of the room and the lecture resumed. Another glance back at the girl and I saw the cell phone palmed in her left hand down by her side. She had been text-messaging someone instead of paying attention!