Year 10 Narrative

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

It was the first day back at school for a new year. Many of us still longed to be on holiday, carefree and careless. It showed on our faces as we grumpily and wearily made our way along the corridors to our House Room. This year our form (11) had

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.

It was 9:00 a.m. Arriving 30 minutes early gave me time to get to explore the building I would be spending the next year in. I breathed in the crisp, metallic smell of drywall and aluminum. The school felt new and so was I in a way. It had been

It was on that day, sitting on the schoolbus frightened and nervous, that she would be experiencing something new. The reserved 10 year-old Tasnim who just moved from Bangladesh to the United States, was riding on the schoolbus as a 5th grader. It was already halfway through the school year, and curious students on the bus had already been asking her questions to get to know her. Her first interaction with a student had been a girl on the bus asking,“What’s your name?” as well as other closed questions. The bus eventually stopped at the school, which was larger than she thought and had seemed like a labyrinth on the outside.

On the first day of sophomore year I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be, until I entered my third block teacher’s classroom. I arrived late and the entire class was as quiet as a library, which is shocking for a high school. As my new teacher walked

I looked away to see all of the faces that everyone was making. Mostly shocked, but some scared. I saw a girl named Aria who just looked frightened. She was sitting alone. I felt the urge to get up and sit with her, until the bell rang. Everyone got up and pushed through each other to get to their lockers. I lost Aria through the complete chaos. I thought to myself, I’ve never actually spoken to her before, but I feel really bad for her.

As the August morning sun chased the shadows from the roofs of houses and painted the sky gold, once again there was an eerie silence at Horribly Hard Middle School. In the dawning light, you could not see into the classrooms because of the light-blocking curtains at every window. No

Even forgetting the appearance of the school outside it, my classroom was an escape. My teacher, Mrs. Waterman, had an effervescent personality that bubbled over and spilled throughout the classroom. Her favorite words in the classroom were “Great effort!,” “That looks great!,” of the ever-present “Stupendous job!” Everything, from the colored magnets on the pure white whiteboard to the polychromatic rug helped make you feel happy, bright, and positive. Once I stepped inside, a pleasant aura of welcoming enveloped you, causing her room to be quite the popular destination for lunch breaks. When I walked towards her classroom on that fateful day, she was waiting at the door with a perky smile, ready to welcome me. I felt my mouth form into a return grin, and went into the coat room, whose only real purpose was to store the bags of the students, without hesitation. As I put my bag away, my sinus’ filled with the smell of whatever the lunch ladies were making in the cafeteria. Today, the malodor closely resembled something like pureed snails. I was glad I packed my own lunch.

I finally found the classroom after asking a few other students where to go. I smiled knowing that I would love French, but not knowing if I would love the teacher. Mrs.Groom was her name as it was put up on the promethean board for all to see. I let my eyes wander around the room to see if I knew anyone. My eyes landed upon my red-head friend Kristyn. As she talked with another girl I didn't know the name of, I found a seat closet to her without technically sitting on top of her. French class went by in a rush, I didn't speak much because, I was nervous. The knot in my stomach had seemed to grow larger and tighter as the day progressed. The bell rang dismissing us and most students jumped at the chance to get out, but I had to stop pull out my schedule and look at it. I groaned inwardly as I saw that I had English I next. I picked up my stuff and walked out saying au reviour to Mrs.Groom. Due to the fact the English was not one of my stronger subjects, I wondered how I would do in it this year. Walking into the class, I take in the sights of the people sitting around the room. I noticed that I knew 9 people in this class. I smiled knowing that their were some people that I knew in here. I sat down in a seat wondering who my teacher was. I never bothered to look and see the name on the teacher on my schedule, but instead looked upon the board. Mrs.Goodwin was typed in black letter on the board. My thoughts immediately went to what her appearance was and what she sounded like. I was so deep into my own world I hadn't noticed that the door had been shut. I took in Mrs.Goodwin's appearance, she had dirty blonde hair that reached a little past her shoulders and her smile made her brown eyes pop. I smiles as she began to talk about expectations and what we would being doing/learning this year in her

“Evans Institution of Education is proud to be one of the founding integrated schools throughout the world! We are excited to announce that this is our 10 year anniversary of the human and visis alliance. We look forward to a year of fun, and most importantly learning! With that we hope you have a great first day of school and welcome to Evans Institution!” Repeated the speakers around the campus courtyard. Students trickled in the gateways as the beginning of the school year drew near. New students were easily spotted, their obvious gawking and terrified faces set them apart quickly. The returning students on the other hand only dreaded the start of school, shuffling in tiredly. A petite girl walked through the gates, holding a sketchbook

She took sir’s nod as a sign to leave and slowly walked through the school. Little lit empty schools used to scare her, now days she was used to it. Her fingers traced over the walls of the corridors plastered with work only parents could be proud of. She sniffled as her shoes tapped on the hard wood. Katelyn looked down at her feet with only her fingers to guide her through the dim light. Her hands traced over the doors of each classroom. Past her form room, past the headmistress’s office and nearly past the art studio. She stopped as her fingers dipped into the blood covering the door.

It was a Thursday night in the middle of March, as I pull into the school parking lot. I can see that there are mounds of suitcases and over stuffed duffle bags lined up on the faint lit sidewalks. I jumped out of the car with eagerness when I saw my friends waiting for me by the curb line. We leap with joy because; we knew that this was going to be one of the best trips of our final year in high school. The trip meant so much to us; we needed to be away from stress filled environment that is known as school.

Soon enough, the month of May came and it was time to move on. I remember walking into the classroom for the last time. The children were delighted to see me saying, “Miss Courtney’s here!” Although, I could see the gloomy look in their eyes when they remembered it was my last day with them. The student who became my primary focus since December, came up to me and hugged me. I felt the impulse of tears wanting to come, but I knew I had to be strong. Then I started following the normal routine that day and prepared the children for lunch.

After I was allowed in, I signed in to the computer system as a guest and headed to the classroom I would be observing in. On my way to the classroom, I couldn’t help but notice that not much about the building had changed. As I walked downstairs to Ms. Gerke’s classroom, I even noticed that my kindergarten teacher still worked there in the same exact classroom; I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. In the distance I could hear the chatter of students in classrooms and piano music and singing in the music room.