The On The Walls, And Hurtful And Hateful Words

One afternoon, right after the final bell of the day had rung, I was at my locker, packing up my things quickly to make the bus on time. As I swung my backpack onto my shoulder, it collided with someone who I didn’t realize was standing directly behind me. I barely had enough time to register what had just happened before one of my friends yelled “Ouch! F* you Emma!” I was so surprised that someone could have said something so mean to me that I ran out of school and onto the bus. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I leaned against the window, trying to process my feelings on what the person I thought was my friend had said to me. Almost immediately I concluded that my friend must now hate me and that I shouldn’t hang out with him any more because he’d yell at me.

I frantically searched my desk, underneath my chair, and inside my backpack, and it wasn’t before long that my classmates began snickering. Confused, I demanded to know why they were laughing. At first, they didn’t bother to answer me, and instead continued in their self-sustained amusement. After being harassed for the entire school year, this was the last straw for me; the panic induced by my missing belongings and the increasing frustration of being ignored pushed me into a very desperate state of fight or flight mode. However, in this case, I chose to both fight and

All I had on my mind was that my little brother was falsely accused of vandalism. When I woke up and went to school the following morning, I immediately got called to the office. There I found Branden, Bryson, and Jack. They are football players that cause a lot of trouble . As soon as I walked in, Jack said; “Jake did it and you know it.” Me, knowing this wasn’t true, raised my voice and replied, “You’re a liar and don’t be accusing my brother of something you didn’t know he did! You and your friends probably did it!” At that point, the principal and resource officer pulled the three boys into the office. Soon after, another officer walked in the door. “Emiley, come with me please.” he said. Once we walked into his office, he had the tapes pulled up from that Friday night. “Which one is Jake?” he asked. I replied, “Jake isn’t in it.” While watching the tapes, I saw a blonde haired girl, she reminded me of Anna. I asked the officer, “Who’s that girl?” and he replied “I can’t tell you, is there any reason your brother might’ve done this? Vandalism may be an act of revenge, a way of expressing a political opinion, or a means of intimidation.” At this point, I was so annoyed I got up and walked out. As I left, I walked past the football players as they snickered and laughed. While I was walking back to class, my phone vibrated. My mom texted me saying, Your dad and I are on our way to

“Sticks and stones may brake my bones, but words will never hurt me”, goes one old playground rhyme. We are usually taught to ignore a person who uses foul language, but everyone knows that words can really hurt a person. When someone uses hateful words against us, it can hurt just as much as a slap or a punch. When people start to use obscenities with ethnic or racial slurs, it can push some sensitive buttons. Racial slurs used in a joking manner leads to others using it in a condescending manner, which ultimately leads to violence and feelings of hatred. From my experience, racial slurs can cause the most extreme negative reactions in people.

“Good Morning Ms.Brown” Officer Nick yelled at me as I strolled through the large doors at Simon Gratz High School. Walking through those big red doors every day felt great, I felt even better seeing my friends in first period. We all had gym together and health. The class was 90 minutes long but what better way to spend those 90 minutes running around jumping rope and playing tag. I headed to the locker room on the lower level of the school where I ran into to one of the girls that a friend of mine had beef with the day before. She stared at me but in the back of my mind I’m thinking to myself this bitch don’t want it with me. I continue on to the bathroom to change my clothes and get ready for class. As I’m walking to towards the gym I overhear a group of girls talking about me. So I decided to dip of into the lockers to get a

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.

I still remember the strange looks on my classmates’ faces when I entered the classroom on an early October morning. It was as if they were expecting some sort of a reaction from me, but I was not quite sure what exactly they wanted me to react to. First few periods passed without anyone saying anything. During the Big Break, however, (after 3 period we usually had 20 minutes to grab some food and relax) as I was walking to the school cafeteria a classmate of mine, one of my best friends, approached me. He asked if I knew what happened with my cousin’s family, but I did not. He then told me that last week one of the famous mobsters in our city had extorted my uncle to sign his house to him and then kicked him out on the street with his two daughters and a wife, just before the beginning of winter. I was devastated. I knew nothing about it. Why did not my parents inform me about this? But probably the worst thing was that I realized that I was in the same class with that same mobster’s son. Of course, a reaction was expected, but how could I judge a kid for his father’s deeds. N. had done nothing wrong. On the contrary he was the most down-to-earth kid in the entire class. But what about my cousins, what about my family honor and the fact that it was completely disgraced by this kid’s father? How could I stand there and just do nothing? I tried to remain calm, but I was torn apart on the

Walking into the classroom, something just didn't seem right. The lights were out, blinds closed, and only one shadowy figure sat at the teacher’s desk. Just by the shape of the figure I could tell it wasn’t my teacher. A chill swept through the room making the hairs on my neck stand up. I began to sweat and my hands shook. I stood, staring at the shadow at the front of the room. I finally built up enough courage to mutter out “Who are you?” The figure then spoke with a deep, threatening voice “I think you know who I am!” This was true, I had met the figure a few years ago. I tried to escape the past, but it caught up to me. “How did the school let you in?” I asked. “Do you really think that I would come in here with permission?

While I was waiting sitting in a room full of colorful posters about behavior with lots of paper shelf's,the principal was thinking what was she going to do with me and trying to contact my parents to tell them about

I almost pass out. I go back to the real world and head to my seat. The teacher said that we were going to get a new student last week, but I didn’t think much of it. In the class, the seats are arranged in pairs of two. Jane was sitting alone. The second bell rung and the class quieted down and waited for Mrs. Flaherty to do the attendance. It turns out, the person that I was assigned to’s grandmother had passed away on the previous Friday, and today was her funeral. After the teacher finished the attendance, she looked at me and said. “Hey Holden, why don’t you sit next to Jane? She’s new, and needs someone to sit with. And since Adam’s out, you need someone to sit with.” Jane picked her head up and she looked at me with delight. I could tell she was really excited, because she slightly twitched her nose. She has been doing it since she and I were kids. I sat down next to her, and we chewed the fat for two minutes before class started. Every time we talk, she kills me. She always has an new, interesting story every time we see each other. After Mrs. Flaherty taught us a third lesson on plagiarism, we went up to get a worksheet about plagiarism that was to be completed before the end of class. I sat back down with Jane trailing. We get started and one of the school’s many jocks threw an eraser at the

I gather up my books and pencils and walked out of the classroom. My best friend Sally was about to cry. So we had our little best friend moment. “be safe” she said taking her seat in the back of the classroom. I looked into her heartbroken eyes I felt like I was about to cry “I will, I promise”. i said walking out of the classroom and down the hallway and on my way to the office. I then heard two familiar voices. “does she have to go there are more than just one black student at this school other than just her” a lady’s voice said. “yes, she does don’t worry she will be in great care-” i could tell that was Ms. Clinn voice until she got interrupted by a grown men. “ how do you know that?” he yelled making me jump.”because she will be living with Melba Pattilo Beals and her family until you guys are ready to move down there yourselfs.” Ms. Cinn said i’ll be living with melba? I’LL BE LIVING WITH MEBLA I thought in my head over and over and over again. “were not moving anywhere” a man’s voice said. “i’m sorry sir but if not then Arianna will have to move on her own” Ms. Clinn said those words made my heart stop. “ And either is my daughter” A woman said, wait that’s my mom and dad. “mom and dad?” I questioned walking coming face to face with my mom and dad, Ms. clinn, the school board and none other than Mr.

That night after school, my parents got an email from Mrs. Shelly. They were shocked to see that I would do such a thing. They were very disappointed at what I had done. My parents yelled at me that night until my ear were ripped out of my head.

The day right from the start seemed like a good day so I went about smiling and walked blissfully to my normal seat next to my friends. We prepared for the coming classes that day. The deafening bell sounded and we were on our way to start the actual day. My classmates and I walked joyfully through the hallways, joking and laughing before reaching our first period destination. I made my way to the front of the classroom and sat down. The air was crisp so I took out my jacket and put it on. Our teacher walked in a few minutes late and started to take attendance. The whole classroom focused on him. After he finished taking attendance, he slowly reached down into a drawer and pulled out a stack of papers. I stared in disbelief. The stack of papers he pulled out was actually a pop-test. I took the pop-test trying to recall everything that we had learned over the course of two weeks. I focused on the test for most of the class period and finally turned it in. The morning weather seemed to just be a ruse. This was not a blissful or good day; it took a turn for the worst. I sat there in the chilling room trying to think of something else to keep

There are 1200 students at Roanoke High School, all crowded into a brick building that looks more like a Lego sculpture than a school. I walk past lockers and drinking fountains and doors, and every few seconds, someone brushes my shoulder, mostly by accident, I think. Girls who are touching up their makeup in front of small, magnetic mirrors look disgusted by me as I walk past. Boys in jerseys or Hollister sweatshirts stare at me as they pass, sizing me up with vigilant eyes. Sometimes, I meet their gaze and wonder if I could beat them up. I bet I could, most of them anyway.

     I walked into school around 8:25, rolling out of bed only a half hour before. I wiped the rain from my face, I hate when it rains. As usual, I strolled in with a casual walk, like I was the coolest, because I could come in late every morning since I had no first period class. The first person I saw as I walked through the cafeteria toward the staircase was Louise. Usually an outgoing and crazy person, she strikes many as being on crack. She calmly and quietly said "hey", with her face to the floor, not even looking at me. On my way up the staircase to my locker, I passed my good friend Mike. He looked me in the face and said, "Did you hear?" I replied with intense