The Groom: A Short Story

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

My first day of the second grade, I knew no one except the teacher and my younger brother. Kindergarten and first grade had been easy enough, but I was scared of the upcoming year. The only thing I knew about being the new kid was that it hadn’t panned out too great for Addie from the American Girl books. Mrs. Henson’s class was fairly quiet throughout the day, for most kids were nervous or tired. We neared the end of the day and I was ecstatic over the fact that hadn’t made a complete fool of myself. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I thought that that would be a challenge for another day. Unfortunately, that’s not what Mrs. Henson had in mind. She sent us all out to recess with a grin plastered on her face and with me practically kicking

The morning was foggy and I could see the front of my school through my window. It was a nice sight to see. I walked into the kitchen to make myself a bowl of cereal and there she was with her head down on the table. I could tell that she arrived a couple of hours ago because the tears hadn’t dried from her cheeks yet. I got myself ready gave her a kiss on her forehead and headed off to school. I had walked into class eager to see what my teacher Mrs. Padron had in store for today. Every single day there was something new to learn and there’s something about that infinite nature of learning that really appealed to me as a child. I cherished those 7 hours I spent in class the most I could and I dreaded the mere thought of having to go home where I would have to face the

I was starting my first day at a new school. My palms were sweaty, my heart was thumping, and I had butterflies in my stomach. I took a deep breath and walked towards the grey doors. I thought about what the new school would be like; how the teachers were and how the students were. I missed my friends from my old school. I walked through those big grey doors to a whole new place.

The name of the poem I will be explaining is the Bridegroom. The author of this poem is Alexander Pushkin. The background of this poem is that this girl was at her house and she saw a man in a wagon, then ran inside her house to get away from him. The matchmaker tried to hook up the girl with the man who was driving the wagon. She told her dad to invite the law to the ceremony that was being held for her and the man. When they got there the man saw she was unhappy. He asked her why she was unhappy, she told the story about the man cutting this girls hand off, and proved that the man she was to marry did the deed. The man was then tried and executed.

Lavenders’ ESL class, she decided that it was time for me to attend regular classes. I was so afraid, not because I would not be competent in the classes, but because I did not think I was ready for a full emergent in the language. I was competent and knowledgeable on the subjects assigned, Geography, Math, Science, but English? I was just completely in a mortified stage. Would I understand the teacher, classmates? Would I be able to speak clearly enough, so they would understand me? That weekend, before I was to report to my first all-English class on Monday, I did not sleep nor could I eat anything thinking about that moment. Monday morning I walked into Mr. Garfield English classroom. Mr. Garret was aware of me been assigned to his class; he was standing right at the door. When I came in, the first thing Mr. Garret did, was to ask the class to be quiet for a minute. He then proceeded to introduce me to them. I had never felt such a panic as I did at that moment. I was sweating, quivering; I felt a thousand eyes just staring at me. Mr. Garret quickly noticed my somber demeanor and immediately asked me to have a seat. I am sure he thought I was going to have a panic attack, and I’m not sure if I wouldn’t have if he did not step in quickly and asked me to have a

Good evening. I would like to begin by welcoming each and every one of you to this joyous and stressful occasion.

Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen - I am the groom's father, Ken, and I have the great privilege of being best man. I have recently found out there are two reasons why J W asked me to do this job. 1) To make him look younger and slimmer in the photos. 2) Because he didn't want to burden any of his friends with the terrible prospect of having to give this speech.

“Groom Service” and “The Return” are two short stories taken place in a terrible setting with the main character who deals with relationship problems. Both stories have common themes related to acceptance, acknowledgement, and recognition. The protagonist in “Groom Service”, Bernard, had the ability to survive with his hunting skill, but did not dare to seek his own love. He seeks acceptance from Marie and her family. On the contrary, Kamau in the story “The Return” seeks acceptance from a village, but finds acceptances in the change that had taken place. Due to the influence of the internal and external forces created by their family and personalities, protagonists, Bernard and

The five-minute warning bell goes off. I rush to my first class of my junior year, eager to see my classmates, who I was going to spend the rest of the 9 months with. I find myself stumbling into a classroom plastered with decorations of Denzel Washington with a Dr. Seuss book in his hand, a t and college flags galore. My AP English 11 class suddenly seemed so appealing to me. As a beautiful, curly haired short lady stood in front of me and said “Welcome to AP English 11,” I knew that I had found a treasure so much greater than just a pretty classroom. Little did I know, that short lady was going to inspire me throughout my challenge filled second-to-last year of high school.

The classroom set up was very different than what I was used to back in Nepal. I didn’t know anyone in there. I didn’t know what to do, so I just managed to sit in the chair that was nearby the door. All the other students were staring at me like something was wrong with me. In reality, everything felt wrong to me when I was in the situation where it felt so bad that I just wanted to quit. It seemed like I was on a one-way street, and I couldn’t figure out what I should do and how I would get out from it. It was almost the end of that class. The time passed just by watching a documentary on the literature’s time period. After the bell rang, all the students left the classroom; then I walked to my teacher with the problem I was having. I was lost in every other class as the hallways get crowded and the buildings were huge. He helped me solve the problems that I had, and my first day of the new school passed in the same way as it did first three hours of that

It was my first class, of my first day, of my first year at Sartell High School. As a freshman, everything about high school is nerve wracking. Simply just looking at an upper classman would send chills throughout your spine. Basically, school was prison at the time (metaphor). Every freshman would walk into their classes, crossing their fingers, and wishing to see one of their friend’s vibrant faces. I clearly remember that day; I trudged through the halls with some of my very best friends, and we tried to find our first classes. The smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies swam up my nose (personification); I then realized that I must be close to my first class, foods and nutrition. Standing outside the room, I look in and notice the room was white and vacant (Participial Phrase). My stomach dropped to the floor; I knew nobody in this class. I quickly glanced around the bare room, looking for a familiar face. The only other girl in my grade was absolutely the last person I would want to share this class with. She looked like somebody I would not normally want to associate with, conceited and stuck up. With rapid, quiet feet, I walked into the classroom, and I heard the rustling of papers (Prepositional Phrase). This could only mean one thing, a seating chart. I scurried through the chart and found my spot. Of course, I sat next to her, the cruelest girl in school,

I was getting closer and closer. Not a bird in sight, not even a single cloud. The moon was starting to shine as the sun was descending from the cerulean sky. Drivers were getting closer and closer to their destination, so was I. I took one more footstep where my mind flashes back four years back. It was a warm atmosphere, although it wasn’t my desire to start somewhere fresh. I walked into my first class, two girls came up to me, and secured that I had a nice first day. After my first, class I go into a classroom, which wasn’t what I all expected. It all seemed so historic and antique. It really emphasized his passion. He was teaching something, that I had already learned. He was asking the whole class what the regions of the United States

I had arrived at my destination- a lot sooner than I wanted to. I hurried in the classroom to get the best seat, which was always in the back row by a window. The professor walked in with an energy that I had never encountered before. She carried herself with an air of confidence. She spoke with certainty. She introduced herself and dove right into the first lesson before the first five minutes of class were even over. She informed us that today we would be introducing ourselves to the entire class. I could feel myself becoming nauseous. My hands started shaking and my mind started sorting through a million cliché facts about myself. I could not seem to think of my favorite color at the moment. I am an average, boring, normal eighteen-year-old girl who has a crippling fear of public speaking. That is as far as I got before I heard the professor call my

Sadness, desperation, and the thought of failure plagued my brain as I went into my second day of Sophomore year in high school. I had grown to dislike school a lot as it felt like all the fun I used to have was slowing diminishing into nothing. As I walked to my next class, I looked down to make sure I had the right room number. I did, it was time for English which I was not looking forward to. But, to my surprise, this English class would change everything