The Prank Day: The Best Day Of My Life

Since the day we entered the school system we all looked forward to summer break but dreaded Labour Day because that symbolized the end of freedom. In the essay titled Labour day is a dreaded bell in the schoolyard of the mind by Harry Bruce, Bruce showcases how many students feel about Labour day through the use of literary devices. He sheds a light on how Labour day ends summers and brings you back to reality and how everyone eventually has to circum to the reality of life. Bruce uses similes within the essay to relate school being like prison he relates prison guards to teachers essentially saying that jail is equivalent to school. Some kids would agree with what Bruce has said because you are in school for about 6 hours a day you go to

September 9th started like any other day, but it didn’t take long before it was the strangest day I’d had in awhile. I came to school at 7 am since it was early in the year, and I still was adjusting to my new classes and new students. The new year was one I was especially looking forward to. I had just won the Teacher of the Year award after only my third year and my students and I all created a bond.

The next day, as promised, she handed out a short pop quiz. It was not as challenging as she tried to make it sound. It presented only five multiple choice questions on it. Once we finished our quizzes, she told us to read the next chapter silently. Once I finished my quiz at the speed of light, I decided to finish other homework, since I preferred to read at home anyway. So while the rest of my class was reading, I worked on homework. Thirty minutes later, I completely finished all of my other assignments, so I decided to start reading the chapter. After nearly two paragraphs in, my teacher interrupted the class to see if everyone finished reading the chapter. Unknown to me, the chapter was fairly short and everyone, but me, finished it. Raising my hand slowly, I told her that I had not finished reading. Everyone in my class turned around and stared at me. The teacher asked me how far I was in the chapter and how much time I needed to

On September 1, 2012, I walked into my fifth grade teacher’s classroom for the first time in my life. Mrs.Cullen was standing in the front of the door with open arms ready to welcome her new fifth grade students. As I made my way to my desk and sat down next to Charlie Schutt and Quin Timmerman, I got the feeling that middle school would be a time of talking to some of my best friends and cruising through classes. As the school year progressed, and classroom seats changed, my thought of how Middle school would be changed as well. On the first day Mrs.Cullen explained our schedule, Homework detentions, and demerits. After about fifty questions, she sent us off to our first class, and the first step of our Middle School journey. The fifth grade

He was planning to try a different one when suddenly he smelled a pungent and disgusting odor. James reticently ran over to the area to see what the situation was when he saw a grayish tint of smoke coming from a microwave in the teacher’s lounge. James panicked and grabbed the fire extinguisher to quench the flames but to no avail. He sprinted to the fire alarm, and he pulled down the lever causing the siren to go off. James then ran back to his class to alert everyone about the fire, but as he arrived shouting, “Fire! Fire!”, everyone turned to stare at him in disbelief. “Do you honestly believe we are going to fall for that trick again?” Mr. Wood asked. “Well … this time is serious!” James stuttered. “I will deal with you later, and do me a favor by keeping yourself in the hall.” Mr. Wood replied. James knew he had pulled his pranks, but he didn't understand what he was going to do to make them believe him. James knew he wouldn't be able to convince them, so he darted down to the office to see if he could convince them. They to yelled at him stating what a mischievous child he was and began calling his mother. Before anyone realized about the fire, it had already spread into the hallway. Everyone evacuated safely, but to James disbelief half of the school was gone. He looked at all his classmate and apologized for being dishonest in the past. He understood why they didn't believe a liar, but he just wished he wasn't a liar in the first

April 20th started out like any other school day which I particularly dreaded. The worst days of your life, well, you don’t realize them at first. Even when the sun is shining or it’s raining. You can never see the miracles or horror that may unfold. I hadn’t realized how badly I would dread this day.

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

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.

Middle school, when that word pops up in one’s head, it’s a sudden reminder of dreadfulness, broken promises, regrets, first crushes, and last but not least, learned lessons. Another morning had brought another school day. Seeing familiar faces and teachers I just wanted to get through the day with no hassle, but that’s not always the case. At least it wasn’t for me. Making my way through the extended halls and walls that seemed to enclose upon me, I felt nothing more than like a chained prisoner. The bell rung and I remained seated in my class, encompassed by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt

The last week of school for all seniors had begun. Everyone was handing in all their assignments (and doing any last bit of procrastination they might've

Finally, winter break was over and it was time for school. During the morning time, everyone from the school goes to the cafeteria to eat breakfast or just to talk to friends before class starts. When I walked in, I saw everyone looking at me and wondering to myself that everyone knows the knew. There was an open table and I decided to sit there and wait for Preston to come. While waiting, I was looking through the evidence on my phone and thinking to myself what I am going to say to

The last day of camp, we did our final touches on the project. We then shared with guests who came like parents and even siblings. They were so fascinated with what we had learned. Most of the people who tried to solve our crime failed. I was a little down saying goodbye to the friends I had made and the teachers.

Middle school, when that word pops up in one’s head, it’s a sudden reminder of dreadfulness,broken promises,regrets,first crushes, and last but not least, learned lessons. Another morning had brought another school day. Seeing familiar faces and teachers I just wanted to get through the day with no trouble, but that’s not always the case. At least it wasn’t for me. Making my way through the extended halls and walls that seemed to enclose upon me, I felt nothing more than like a chained prisoner. The bell rung and I remained seated in my class, surrounded by boxed, outdated computers and rusty white walls, I felt helpless.

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

The final bell rang, and students erupted in a joyful chorus of cheers as summer break began. I sang a melancholy dirge of self-pity. My bitterness increased as I waited for my mother to pick me up. She came at last and I jumped up, anxious to leave forever. Again, Mrs. Thomas thwarted my plans; she came outside to talk to my mother, undoubtedly about my ignominious fate. As they murmured, I viewed the co-conspirators with hostile eyes. I'm a victim, the final sigh of my fifth grade year whispered wearily.