Short Story: Back To School

Coming to school every day as a tenth grader was exciting, but it can get very annoying at times. I had to overcome many challenges to make it this far. Generally, freshman year was a year of change. One of the greatest things I learned as I reached sophomore year, was not to procrastinate.

“Beat me!” he heard her cry. “Throw me down and beat me, you dirty little coward!”

Starting high school, I was the epitome of the phrase “fly on the wall”. Afraid to speak out (or up), join any activities or groups, or, under any circumstances, place myself in the spotlight. Anxieties and doubts flooded my mind and body, and it was clear to anyone who looked my way. This was a struggle that I have faced my whole life, and one that reached its peak during one of the most important periods of my life: high school.

As John sat in the bustling coffee shop and gazed at the blank paper in front of him, beads of sweat broke across his forehead and trickled slowly down his face. How was he meant to write down what he was feeling when he couldn’t explain it? He knew his emotions were in there somewhere but he just couldn’t reach them. They were locked tight, stuffed somewhere deep down. He was comfortably numb and that was something that terrified him. It was as if the numbness was pulling him into a black hole. He was trapped, unable to get out. His thoughts were jumbled and out of sync. He couldn’t tell if what he was feeling was real. Was he capable of feeling emotions anymore? It was as if John was a ghost. Doing what he had to do

It is pretty cool that you had the same teacher for three years and that you liked her. It is nice to be reminded that there are teachers who care so much about their students and it is sweet that she wrote you letters over summer break. She is definitely a teacher that leaves a memorable impression on her students. It is too bad that college was a lot more difficult than you expected, but congratulations on deciding to go back and finish. I honestly do not know if I would be able to go back to school after stopping, however, maybe after discovering that I need an education in order to move up in my career then possibly my opinion would be different. I agree that this program is a lot of work, yet there is no doubt that it pays off.

After sitting at the same desk for three years, I figured I was beyond seeing anything new. I was wrong. After that third year I saw a lot more than I thought I would. I went up to high school and everything was so much different. The grades were harder, the assignments were harder and the teachers were harder.

In first grade, a boy named John— a notorious troublemaker—systematically chased every girl in our class during recess trying to kiss her on the lips. Most gave in eventually. It was easier to give in than keep running. When it was my turn, I turned and faced him, grabbed his glasses off his weasel face, and stomped on them on the hard blacktop. He ran to the principal’s office and cried.

One morning Jason and Jordan woke up to a massive storm. Jason had to walk to school by himself like always and Jordan got to take the bus with his baseball team to school. Unlike a normal day Jason didn't get picked on he was just left alone. It seemed strange to Jason why his normal bullies didn't beat him up when they saw him or anything. After

Purple bruises were scattered across her frail wrist like grotesque, swollen beetles. Her knee jutted out awkwardly to her side. Her bleeding, cracked lips were shrunken to a tiny buttonhole. Her tongue stuck out between her teeth like a piece of rubber. Her eyelids fluttered feebly as she lay there - defeated, defenseless, and desolate. Her chest heaved up and down, as her lungs fought for breath – she was barely alive. A caked, muddy trail of shoeprints followed him out the door. He had gotten away again. Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. My throat swelled up as my steely resolve began to dissolve. Grief shook my shoulders like an inner earthquake, the world around me crashing down. A nauseating mixture of relief and horror clenched tightly onto my loins – like when you finally stop an itch, only to realize that you’ve ripped a hole in your

John has been diagnosed with depression. During the interview John seemed emotionally distressed. He was poorly groomed and had sunken eyes with dark circles. In a dejected tone he claimed that his future is hopeless and that there is no point in living. John feels that if he were to disappear, no one would notice or care. He no longer finds pleasure in life and because of this he gave up on his favorite activity, going to classical music concerts on the weekends.

“Vandi, what was it like coming to America?” I looked up to see my friend Carson staring at me intently, his eyes big blue eyes full of wonder, his blonde hair shining under fluorescent lighting. Suddenly, I was self conscious about my dark skin and eyes.

We had our concerns starting day 1 when we were bringing crayons to school, as our friends at Napa and Vintage came having read 3 novels. Trying to leave this school has been an uphill battle since we began a little over a month after school began. We have gone through every precaution, filled out every form, spoken to administrators, directors, and educators and gotten nowhere. This is our last stretch. The amount of effort we’ve put in to leave, has caused us a load of stress on top of what we receive from the school. We know this is a bit of a stretch asking for an intradistrict transfer, and we don’t meet any of the criteria anyways, but we are so unhappy at New Tech. We were being diplomatic in saying that New Tech wasn’t quite the

Emily, Jasmine, Rene, and Rihanna were on their way to there school, Cedarcrest Junior High, and One day they got in trouble for starting a food fight. They stayed there for almost 5 hours cleaning everyone's mess in the cafeteria.it was really dark they, turned there flashlights on from there phone. They could burly see where they were walking. They tried to open the door, but the door couldn't open they were locked in the school campus

One early, April morning, people came for me in the dead of night to take me to school. The tinkling sounds of their key inside the lock to the door of my bedroom woke me from a sound sleep. They fumbled with it, betraying their unfamiliarity with the lock, while I rolled over in my bed and half dreamt of reminding my mom that the handle had to be held slightly upwards. When the door opened full there was a pause as light and cool air entered my room, and I propped myself up on my elbows to see why I was hearing such heavy breathing. A tall, middle-aged man approached the foot of my bed, while a short and unfamiliar woman lingered below the doorframe.

Every student and teacher dream of having a week off of school. But many times we aren't exactly sure what to do when that time arrives. It seems like almost every year I’m stuck at my house because most of my friends are away for vacation while i'm still pondering through Netflix trying to find a show to watch, and I’ve made no effort to try and hang out with the people still at home. However, this year is my senior year, my last spring break of high school. I need to make it the best one I can. So that brings up the question, what should I do over Spring break?