The Bus Slowed As It Passed The Old Farm Essay

The familiar aroma of coffee fills the air as I enter the not so common area. I feel very bewildered in the labyrinth of hallways searching for my classroom just like I had stepped into corn maze as a child. At last, I locate the secluded room tucked away inside the massive building. Even though the number on the door matches the number on my schedule I am still second guessing if I am in the right place. The door opened up as students poured out. Finally, I took my seat at the back, trying my hardest to sit down unnoticed. My hands were shaking as I wrote the class name at the top of my paper. After what seemed like ages the professor proceeded to

I walked towards the house, my father opened the door and walked in. I took a step on the squeaky wooden floor and looked around, it was very open and for sure needed to get dusted and wiped clean. I spotted the stairs and went running towards them

It was early July in Southern California: the sun was high, the air was warm, and the palm trees were swaying. Unfortunately, the bright sun could not light the darkness of the pit I had been slowly falling into during my tumultuous school year at my new charter school. On that day, when the other girls were tanning beachside, I was sitting deskside. I was trapped in a tiny, moldy, yellow-carpeted education office at the school I had transferred to the year prior. Like my fading hope, the dusty chandelier was barely hanging on from the ceiling. The room’s peculiarity added to my anxiety, as I felt failure lingering in the musty air. Though I had been sheltered by my parents’ optimism, I knew what I would soon hear: “I am so sorry sweetheart,

Slowly the feelings faded and perhaps because he feel as if he were being selfish he asked, "Do you write?"

I pull out a chair right by Emma and put my chin in my palm. The teacher, Mr. Brown, started to teach which made me want to go to sleep. My eye hesitated to stay open then I heard a loud bang. Someone drop their chair on the floor which made me wide awake in this boring

The sweat was dripping down John’s face as he pushed the weights off his chest. Everyone ran towards their bags after a student said there was a gun in school. Twitter was the first source that everyone checked just to make sure. Boom! The door slammed open as Coach Ben yelled “Hurry up and get out”. John’s heart started beating faster and faster. No one knew what was going on. As students were running to the gym everyone was panicking and pushing each other. John could feel the burn on his elbow but he didn’t know what it was. When everyone got to the gym John’s elbow was covered in blood. Everyone was told to get down and stay quiet. Later on coach told everyone a student brought a gun to school and was planning on committing suicide.

The low ceiling cowered above and the black plastic chairs formed a restless crowd around me. From my seat, I could smell the acute scent of cleaning fluid, whiteboard markers, and the nauseating perfume of the girl sitting next to me. Like so many other students, she exuded concentration. Her brows were drawn as her hand moved rapidly over the testing booklet, only pausing to reposition herself or cast an almost imperceptible sidelong glance. The effortlessness of her actions furthered my anxiety as I began tapping my foot uneasily against the speckled linoleum floor. Through the dusty shades that hung precariously in front the only window in the room, I could see the outline of a solitary building shadowed by the dense gray fog that clung to the courtyard outside. At that moment, I would have given anything to be able to run and scream at the top of my lungs. I had an inexplicable urge to break free from the confinement of that room and what it

I glanced up at the clock. It was 12:18. Mrs. Ewert exclaimed, “One or two problems guys.” My heart sunk to my toe. I had langage arts next. Mrs. Berntson was coming back to school after her son went missing. My friends say that she is seeking revenge and locking up kids. I tried not to think about it and did a math problem, I knew they were exaggerating. The bell rang and Mrs. Ewert excused the class. I slowly walked down the crowded hallway. I turned the corner and could see her crusty, burnt door. Now I could believe my friends, Mrs. Berntson has gone crazy! I looked across the hallway and could see my friend, Will. You could tell by his face that he was scared to go in.

“No!” It was my mom’s voice, I ran into the office and saw a gun on the floor, part of the wood chipped out as my dad stormed away. My mom was sobbing, visibly terrified. My mom followed my dad, while Missy took me upstairs with the baby and the pets. She locked the door behind her, and we saw my dad storming away from the garage in his car. After we knew he had pulled away, She led me back downstairs where my mom was waiting for the police. After around three minutes, a police officer arrived. It was after then that my mom made sure my dad couldn’t pick me up from school anymore.

“I don’t think I can do it,” I told her. “I’m not as strong as he was. I give him that journal for his thoughts. I never had any intention of reading that book.”

It was just like any other normal Thursday at HempPasture High School. The school day ended and I was exiting the school into the blistering cold air of mid-january. The bone-chilling wind kissed my cheeks, and hurried my rush into the field house to escape the bitter weather. I let out a sigh of relief as i entered the first set of doors, then began my decent down 2 flights of stairs to the locker room. As i descended, I couldn’t help but notice the eerie emptiness of the usually busy area of the field house. The stairwell was dimly lit, and it only seemed to get darker the more i descended. I finally came to the end of the stairwell and paused to see if i could hear anyone else as I usually would on any normal day, but all i could hear was my own faint breath. I slowly opened the door into

As I gathered my brand new folder with a matching notebook and headed down the hallway towards room 330, I mentally prepared myself for what I thought would be the most horrific experience of my life. I paused in the doorway, took a big, deep breath, opened the door, and stepped inside of the classroom.

might belong to someone else? She grabbed her journal, about to add it to the bag, but instead sat in her cozy corner

Sitting in class eyes closed shut as if I'm at home in my tempurpedic bed with my favorite fluffy pink blanket and big fluffy pillow.  As my math teacher starts the lesson I hear nothing in my head but silence.  Then suddenly from pocket I feel a beating causing me to jump up startled.  Staring at my phone firm wondering who this could be calling me.  I raise my hand to go to the restroom to answer this unknown call.  I swiped my phone across to answer the call, "Hello."  "Hello Daija Talley this is Sarah I'm calling from Beaumont hospital, we were calling you today because your mother was rushed to the hospital this afternoon and we cant get in touch with anyone." said Sarah from Beaumont hospital.  My heart stopped as if I were going into

The alarm clock buzzed loudly beside my ear. Feeling like a gong that was being hit repeatedly was placed right beside my head. I sluggishly pulled myself out of my bed and dragged myself to my closet. The words, first day of school moaned ghastly in my head. Summer was uneventful and school was just going to be hell. I picked out an old, worn out flannel and a pair of jeans to wear. Not rushing at all, I struggled to put the raggedy clothes on. They smelt like horrendous lies and rumors. Exactly what this state and my school are built on.