My First Day In School

Decent Essays
The bell rings as I walk into class. Not late, but not too early either. That's the way I work. I’m never late to anything, and I’m never early to anything. I make my way to the back of the class where there are open seats. I throw my stuff down and sit down as I listen to the teacher. I pull my notebook out, as well as a pencil, and begin my notes. The first day of school is always the worst, mostly because the teachers introduce themselves. Who wants to know about their teacher? I mean they come to school, and they teach us. What is so special about their background? After my teacher is done talking I raise my hand and ask to use the restroom. Mr. Larson smiles and nods his head. I’m out of my seat and headed into the hall…show more content…
Until he came into my life. He called me beautiful and perfect, and told me that I was meant for him. I was stupid and naive. I believed everything he said and fell deeper into his trap each day. I shook my head to get the memories out of my head. This is a new year and I won’t let what happened last year happen again. I straighten my spine and fix my hair, then leave the bathroom. As I exit the door I don’t see the massive figure walking towards me. I run right into his chest and fall backwards. I brace myself for the hard floor, but it never comes. Instead there are large, strong, hands holding me up and keeping from hitting the floor. I slowly open my eyes and see a face I’ve never seen. His hair is jet black and his eyes are a crystal blue. I stare straight at them and I feel them looking right through me. He has that bad boy vibe to him and its addicting. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.” I say, finally finding words. “No worries, I’m just glad I caught you.” His smile is gorgeous and his voice is low and gruff as it washes over me. He pulls me up so that I’m standing in front of him, but his hands don’t leave my waist. He steps closer looking me up and down, and suddenly I’m conscious of my boots, skinny jeans, and t-shit. When his eyes meet mine again, he smiles. “I’m Elijah, and you are?” “Samantha. But you can call me Sam.” What am I doing? Where is my spunky attitude and
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