Shady Oaks High School: A Narrative Fiction

On April 08, 2016, I arrived to my designated school, Cypress Point Elementary School. Upon my arrival to Cypress Point Elementary School, I went to the main office of the school to see the assistant principal, Mrs. Dewitt. She could not make it to school on time, due to her having car troubles. The secretary told me she would notify her that I arrived and to set me. As I waited for Mrs. Dewitt, I noticed quite a few students having to call home due to violating the school dress code. Mainly it was more girls violating the dress code than boys. I am assuming from what I saw, the children only wore clothes that they saw the adults wore, or whatever their parents picked out for them. During this time, I noticed a little Asian or Hispanic boy being brought to school but he was supposed to be at home due to suspension. The secretary asked him “Why are you at school?” This young man told the secretary that his mother brought him to school. The secretary informed him that he needs to call his mother so that she

I have always been in love with the game of softball. I love all the competition and the thought of working at it brings joy to my heart. I could always go to the field to get my mind off things and just focus. But in May of 2015 my life changed and I had a whole new mind set on everything.

Prompt: Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

Throughout the seventeen years that I’ve been alive I have witnessed all the sacrifices my parents have gone through ensuring I have a better future than they did. I come from immigrant parents that weren’t fortunate enough to continue studying. I myself was brought into the country when I was two years old so I could build a different path than the one my parents had to take due to financial reasons. Short after, my sister was born my mom got remarkably ill with Diabetes. I would watch in terror as my mother would lay in bed barely able to move. I held her hand, wiped her forehead, with a cool wet towel, and longed she would get all better. Being the oldest in the

Coming to Citrus Hill High school was a big transition for me within itself. I originally transferred from rancho verde to get away from the trouble and focus more on the things that were important to me, like my school work and baseball. I had heard from the people around that there was a good program there play baseball there. When I came I thought my year would be good new start, new school, new surroundings nothing could go wrong.. Shouldn’t have said that. When i got there my anger issues have gotten in the way and has held me back from achieving many of the goals i set for myself before the school year began. For example, starting off good in all my classes keeping my grades up and making the baseball team. I’ve had previous conversations

My eyes repeatedly peered to the stands which had a crowd of at least four hundred students eagerly waiting as we were warming up. Observing the crowd I noticed the left side of the field was full of students in orange Parkview High School shirts while to my right students were in purple Brookwood High School shirts. It was the Lacrosse Region Championships between Parkview, the school I played for, and, Brookwood High School. Both of our schools were ranked top ten for biggest rivalries, we knew it would be a fight to win the most significant game for us.

It just made things easier for the bullies and things worse for me. Louis and I remained in Wildcats East. I was afraid and sometimes I never wanted to go back. I thought the bullying would have stopped. Now that I am not in school anymore, I feel safer, not threatened or bullied by anyone much anymore. Pretty sad I tell you how school life had to turn out the way it did.

It was a nice Saturday evening, a cool gentle breeze, as Mason was playing soccer in the park. Mason had just turned 15 and was entering his sophmore year in James Grove High. He had a nice little family, living with his mom and being the oldest of 2. He had a sister named Melissa and she was 12 years old just entering the 7th grade. When he was just 2 years old his father sadly passed away in a gruesome car accident. Growing up it was hard for him not to think about this inccident. Him now being older it’s now his responsibility to be the man of the house.

“Fight, fight, fight,” was the chant that so often filled the halls of West Monroe High School. The teachers heard it every time but always hid in the teacher's lounge for fear of being attacked. This was the legacy of WMH, fights, student riots, and terrified teachers.

Living in Small town located in the Central Valley in state of California. I began my freshman year in 2012 at the Avenal High School. My first day of class and everything seemed to be new for a fourteen years old teenager with big expectations about his future education .Dealing with new people and teachers that I did not back time, I go used to them. Attending to school seemed to be easy when it is not, but also it is not hard if you have determination and discipline. I can tell that I have not fallen my none of classes. There was moment when I got lower grade because I have not been paying attention to the lessons that the teacher was teaching to the class. The mistake of getting lower grade did not make a weak student. I learned to

As I picked him up he twisted in air landing -perfectly balanced - on the ground, holding my arms. He clutched my claws so hard I was finding it hard not to cry. My first instinct was to run, get out before I turned out like my meals. I started to run away hoping to loosen my attackers hands, but he stood firm pulling my arms back.

The warm breeze blows past me as I open the door to the Sweetwater Middle School. Shouts and hoots of excitement about the New Year came from behind me as I speak amid my social circle. It was going to be a wonderful year with delightful students and teachers. By the end of the year I knew to have been mistaken to think it would work out for me.

December 1st is written on the board in homeroom.The day I am both thrilled and anxious about.The day I find out if I am still the top in my classes.As I wait for Miss Giorgi to walk to my aisle, I start to doubt myself and think about how hard I have worked. Lost in my thoughts, I realized that Miss Giorgi had set my report card faced down on my desk.As I look down, I spot Foster Grim high school in big bold letters written across the middle, with my name printed in the right hand corner, Emily Farmer.As I go to open it, it is snatch away from me as my best friends, Kacey and Zeus open it,they read it with a bored expression.“Same as always”, says Zeus as the bell rings.

Out of the 19 years I have been blessed to be on this earth, I can honestly say that my most rewarding moment was the day graduated Mansfield Timberview High School. Hearing my family cheer me on, getting my diploma and shaking hands with the board of administration, and beating our class statistics, is what this day a very memorable day.

I’m fairly certain that if I don’t act within the next few moments, all will be lost. However, the beast still has its steely-blue eyes trained on me, waiting for any sign of movement. I know that if I make even the tiniest sound, it will attack, and all I have worked for will be for naught. My determination to stay still is quickly fading. Wooden floors aren’t made to lie on, and my limbs are beginning to twitch. The beast swishes its tail slightly from above, its muscles tensing to pounce, and my arm jerks reflexively. This is all the ammunition needed for attack. I roll to my side, cupping my ears to muffle the explosions.