Personal Narrative : My First Day Of High School

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Everywhere I go it seemed to be flashing lights and screaming teenage girls hollering my name from the top of their lungs. I always dreamt of this moment but now that I have it, I don’t think this is the life I want to live. Without my father here to back me up through these treacherous time, I was at a lack of guidance which enraged me to feel the hatred towards him all yet again. Ever since he left for an extended vacation at the correctional facility, our relationship began to strain as years went by. I was considered the best high school basketball player in the entire country. Every school in the nation wanted me and it seemed as if I was in an auction and people were going back and forth trying to raise their price to get me. These coaches all had one thing in common, they all wanted me for the best interest of their team but didn’t want to look at my side of things. My last first day of high school started off like every other day. I walked in class to face the professor who stunk of coffee grinds. He seemed to have a blunt look on his face and spoke in a monotone expression. His grey button-down shirt was neatly tucked in with a black neck tie. He looked grimly at me and pointed towards the back of the class. “Last desk by the door Mr. Wilson,” he spoke in a calm voice. He handed me my syllabus and I realized that senior year would not be a breeze like I thought it would be. I sat down in my desk and it felt cold as a jail cell
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