Short Story : My Story

“I guess,” I said, mumbling under my breath once she could no longer hear me. I took my seat... it was time to take the test. The teacher handed me my test packet. I took a gulp. I don’t know this. I won’t be able to do this. I told myself, flipping open the first page. I’ll skip this and come back to it… Uggg! I might as well just skip all of them! I went through the formulas, over and over, and in what seemed like no time at all, the teacher was collecting our papers. I gave mine to her and slumped low in my chair.

It was about two weeks earlier; I had just started the assignment that we had the whole semester to complete. My laziness level was at an all-time high but, reluctantly I knew I had to begin. I didn’t even know where to start; all of my classmates were miles ahead of me. “Better just start at the beginning” I thought to myself. So that’s what I did, at a point in the semester I was supposed to be nearly complete. Not to mention this assignment was about 25% of my final grade. That 25% is something I needed as I didn’t have the best work ethic, this would either make or break my final grade.

The day went on as it usually did, with tutors coming in and out for different subjects. Suddenly, the writing tutor came in. She told us that she was handing back our essays (every week we write essays that she eventually grades). She called out names for people to get their essays. I kept anticipating my name to be called out next, but it never came. Confused, I walked up to her and asked her for my essay. She said she didn't have it, but that she would look for it during my next class. My math teacher then came in, signaling the start of math

Howard, at the beginning of my senior year. I was looking forward to that because I always want to know how I can fix any of the mistakes I make. I always dreaded that class; every day it was hot and muggy, it had a foul smell, my classmates were rude, and even Ms. Howard was rude. When teachers are rude, I seem to have a “Fine. I’ll do what I want. I will not give you my best because obviously you do not deserve it, nor care.” I really did not stick with that attitude just because I am more respectable than that, more than I should be. One day, the day before an essay was done, Ms. Howard sat and “taught” class, rather than giving back our drafts like she promised. At the end of class, I walked up to her desk and asked, “Have you looked at my draft? Can I have it back so I can finalize it?” She looked up, neglecting the caring tone that she should have presented, “Sorry, I’ll read it now,” flipped through the white pages literally for a second and scribbled chicken scratch, so I couldn’t even read it. She then handed my essay back to me and said in a rushing voice, “Here you go! Looks great, now get to class before the bell rings.” I was just astonished by how selfish she acted with a promise she made to the entire class. She always had this “It’s not my problem” attitude. It made me wonder why I struggled so much in class when the

Fourth grade rolls around, and my mom’s insurance no longer covers the medication that I’m on. It’s the beginning of the Great Recession, and she’s just lost her job, so we really can’t afford my medicine. We’re lucky to even afford gas for the car. I specifically remember her telling me that I wouldn’t be taking my medication anymore and that I needed to do my best to stay focused in school. This didn’t happen. Assignments that usually got “superb!” written across

When I was in the third grade, I had this teacher named Ms. Tofan. Ms. Tofan and I got along well… that was for the first two months of school. One day our class was instructed to write a math test. This wasn’t anything usual, so I proceeded to write my test. However, once I received my test back, something was a bit uncommon, I did well on the test! Perhaps it was due to the fact that I just understood fractions better than any other math unit, or maybe it was because I just did extremely poorly on other units, but Ms. Tofan wasn’t convinced that I deserved my grade fair and square. Quickly, my joy from receiving this beautiful grade faded. Ms. Tofan, grabbed my wrist and pulled me over, she then started throwing around words like “academic integrity”, and kept going on and on about how “its ok to ask for help, but not ok to cheat”. At first I was completely shocked. I had no idea what she was talking about. Then, suddenly it kicked in she thought I cheated!

She looks at me and gives me a smile. It was a genuine smile. It’s the kind of smile someone makes when he or she accomplished something. I glance to the left of me and I see another student doing the same thing. Soon enough, I see all of the students pulling out this mysterious homework as they sit patiently for the next instruction. I glance down and see an empty, tan, rectangular desk as it absorbs the reflection of the lights hanging above me. I scurry through my bag, knowing I didn’t do the homework. It almost feels like if I try to look through my bag some miracle will happen and it would be there. But it wasn’t. The teacher approaches me with a sad look in her eyes. Her body language tells me that she knows I didn’t do my homework. I feel disappointed and upset at myself. I begin to hate myself. The day gets dreary and I think, “When is this day going to be

Classmates started to chastise me, and I was embarrassed, but this moment was one of the defining moments of my early life. After I had the incident at the board, my teacher called my parents and my parents decided it would be best for me to receive tutoring. Every Monday and Wednesday night I would sit at the library doing math until my junior year of high school, then I finished math for good in my high school career. This period remains a pivotal moment for me because it showed me what perseverance meant, total failure was never an option for me, and no matter how hard my situation got I pressed

Starting off the year in the English class, I had already messed up the first task. I had forgotten to the to sample writing so that she could see how our witting skills were and would try to see what type of work she will have to put into us to make us capable to write a college ready paper. So to start the semester off I had already one late assignment and thought to myself “great she thinks I will be a slacker because I already didn’t turn in something”.

Latter that day at home, my disappointed mom asked me, “Why didn’t you do your homework last night? You lied to me and that is not okay.”

After a long day I walked into my fourth block class late, so I had to go to the attendance window. I was late because of all the upperclassmen were walking slowly and standing still. I was worried because of the lacrosse games later and the allergic reaction I had at lunch that day. She is going to email my coach and tell him I was late to class, as he thought to himself walking back from the attendance window.

I was troubled, she was tolerant. I was unmotivated, she was dedicated. I took the initiative as I realized it was time for a change. I dedicated my to her tutoring session and became enthusiastic. I noticed the valuable lesson of determination and patience and decided to apply this in my life. Soon, Algebra became easy and I became optimistic as my fear of failure vanished. I thought to myself, if I can overcome Algebra, I can overcome any struggles. Observing my parents recovery, I noticed that they were strong as well to overcome their hurdles. I was taught the precious lesson of patience, determination, and perseverance. Ms. Hardy didn’t know about my situation. That doesn’t matter as her simple actions have impacted my life. I cherish the class that encouraged my transformative experience. Today, I carry on the same lesson to overcome any bumps, as I believe that everything remains

I forgot the extra credit essay, this is a great way to start my day, So I did it on the bus of course, and so I can turn it in on time. I couldn't think of anything so I put down “balloons. There might be balloons.” and because I was on the bus my handwriting was terrible. Akimi and I went into the classroom as normal and sat down. Our teacher, Mrs. Cameron, started talking and was collecting our essays. She came to me and look at mine, she was not impressed at all. She read it aloud which was just great, and she also reminded me about my brother and how he was able to write essays. She collected the essays then said the worst thing she could have possible said “ Mr. Luigi Lemoncello himself will be the final judge.” “ Of what? “ Your library

It was four days into the week and her test was tommorow. She had been studying since Monday and felt confident in this test. Her grade was a B+, which meant that she could only get a 100 to bring her letter grade up to A+.That was a lot of pressure since there was a lot on the line. If she couldn’t bring her grade up to a A+ in this class, she won’t be able to visit her cousin new house in Ohio State. The last time she seen that cousin was at a family gathering. Plus she wants to see the new house because she heard it was really big and had a two floored shed.That's

Early in the morning, the ball dribbles and echoes throughout the gym. The sound of the rim thuds, as the ball bounces and rolls around it. The sunlight comes through the window and illuminates the gym, and no one but myself in sight. The sweat begins to make its way down my forehead, and drips down my face onto the sleek, shiny floor. I begin to breathe deeply and repeat the drill, in and out and pull-up jumper, swish. As I finish practicing, I hurry to get to class.