What I Hope Is A Very Long Time

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.

Nothing of interest was in the room, only dimly lit candles and trunks of old, moth eaten clothes. She felt as if someone, or something, was watching her, waiting to drag me into the shadows. Then there it was it was she was unsure but almost certain it was a ghost. The ghost was a white cloud like figure and its eyes and mouth were as black as the night sky's. It was more silent than the grave it arose from, staring with heavy lidded eyes and a slack mouth..As Emily turned to leave, “Don't go.” said a gentle voice, “we can be such good friends.” A blue-white glow filled the room making her skin appear paper thin. “Who are you” Emily asked in fear “We met the day I turned twelve. At the train station, you sat across from me with a small smile. Our toes could hardly touch the floor then. I remember being so very close with each other, but I don’t know how after what you did to me” Emily shook her head mutely. She'd been here an hour tops, or this was some nightmare. It wasn't real, how could it be. “Stay with me” the ghost repeated as Emily was trying to find a way out. She shook her head. “Why refuse

It was the day, the report card appeared into my mail box. I headed into the house slowly, my father walking in front of me. The marble stone floor was colder than usual and was gnawing on my foot. The sense of danger hung in the air, but I walked on. As my father summon me to come forward my foot, obediently, dragged themselves in front him. Knowing that I will be stroke with the slender bamboo stick, instead of fear rising, indifference was replaced by it. The first blow struck my buttock. As it gained speed, almost the entire of my body surface was struck, and then it ended. Black and blue covered my legs and arms as like it was paint. However, unlike paint, it can’t be washed. I hate report cards. Since then, my grades were above average, but until today, I still hate them. You can say that it was that day that changed my languid attitude to a busy worker. I can’t say that my attitude and behavior haven’t changed from since, but I can say that it is kind of solid.

“So did you like the play?” Olivia asked gleefully, and I knew already that she loved the play wholeheartedly. I tried my best to provide a legitimate answer. “I liked it. It held a lot of messages and themes, but I keep thinking about Emily Webb’s question to her mother,” I answered back, and she made a slight smile upon hearing

As I walk into my new class I spot my friends that I’ve had since Sixth Grade we’d been through a lot the year before, and created a bond so robust that it was put asunder. From that instant the situation fluttered into a butterfly effect. We slowly began to go in our separate directions, Miss Better at Everything drifted towards the cool kids, Mister Comedian and Mister Pastor’s Son stuck together,

Walking into Booth Middle School on the first day of seventh grade, all I wanted was a friend. I cared little about whether they would make an impact on my life; as a newcomer to Peachtree City, I was open to befriend anyone. Within the first week, I met Annabelle. I was so preoccupied with the excitement of having a new friend that I was unaware of how greatly she would impact not only my first day, first week, or first year of middle school, but how vastly she would affect my future.

Girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing. Weekend has arrived and the hallways of the school were filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Every ear filled with the sound of multiple conversations going off at once, lockers opening and closing, music blasting without. I had managed to push past the constant stream of children and to the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As I walked my footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of me in the cold ground. I saw my friends faraway chattering and fooling around. I was stuck in the wrong crowd; they are nothing like me but somehow I am still friends with them. I slowly made my way up to my “so called friends”.

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

“Our parents are never just going to let us go to a cemetery! I said.Wait my mom’s grave is there”.I said.You’re right we can tell your aunt that we’re going to see her.”Emily said. DEAL?......DEAL!After school, we ran into the city bus stop, it’s about an hour drive there so we took the bus.When we got out it was pouring down rain.We waited for the bus to leave,then we had to jump the fence because the cemetery was closed.Once we jumped the fence we ran to the mayor’s grave.OH NO!I thought. The coffin was barred.”What are we going to do now?”Emily said.”I have no clue?”I replied in defeat.”I’m so sorry jade!”She said, touching my shoulder.”NO”I said.”What?” She replied confused.”We can’t give up……………. GO GET ME A SHOVEL!”I said.”Whatever you’re thinking...stop!”Emily said worried.”Just go find me one!”I demanded. “ ……….... FINE!” she replied. When she got back, she handed me one shovel and we both

“Mom!” Emily shrieked, panic filling her mind. She sprinted down the stairs to the basement, not bothering to wait for her little brother. Behind her, she heard Navin running after her, yelling at her to wait for him. She waved at him dismissively, knowing that she didn’t have any time to stop. Navin would just have to catch up to her.

Yay I'm so glad I'm in 4th grade.” These are some reasons why I like 4th grade One reason is because of the parties. We get to eat treats, and have drinks, and play games. I'm personally the best at bingo I get a little rambunctious playing bingo so watch out I might tear your card in half.” rip” Another it is because one time I my class and had Day.” which means pajamas” all the girls move their desks into a circle and we played board games, with such a blast. sometimes a teacher let's just have parties for fun. One time we had a celebration for being good and we went outside and had ice cream floats.” Yummy” another reason fourth grade rock is because of the activities. once I had to climb up a tree and act like a monkey because that's

"I don't have to!" She yelled. "You got suspended! That's more than enough!" She paced across the kitchen. "God, Andreatta. Why can't you be more like your little sister? That's all I want." She admitted, frustratedly.

The first year, the time to prove myself had arrived. Classes, rooms, teachers, and some students were unfamiliar. Eventually, minutes melted into hours, hours to days, and days to weeks. It didn’t take long before my schedule was routine, something of second nature. Humor and happiness were found in the form of my advisory family, where school was transformed into something more than going through the same motions of day to day activity. By the closing point of sixth grade, I was having a hard time letting go of what I’d adapted to. “What’s wrong?” my dad asked when I was getting into the car after being picked up early on the last day. I explained how distressed I was that my first year of middle school exceeded my expectations, and that it had to come to an end. Although his outlook viewed my reason for sorrow as trivial, I didn’t.