ma bell essay

◉Jaiden ding ding ding ding. The school bell finally rang, signaling lunch. I ran out of the classroom towards the cafeteria, trying to be the first to claim my spot, which people fail to realize that i sit there. I quickly put my stuff down and went to the vending machine to grab a hawaiian punch. I grab my punch and turn around to see Tanner and Grayson in my spot and my bag on the floor. I glare at Tanner and Grayson, who seem to think it's funny to move my stuff on to the floor. i walk over there

I slipped the note into Logan’s locker and walked off. He’s never going to find out that it’s me. He’s way too oblivious, I thought to myself as I walked into 7th hour. “Okay, class, today we're getting a new seating chart,” Ms.Thorn yelled over all the noise in the classroom. Everyone suddenly got quiet; we all knew that Ms. Thorn likes to put you by people that you don’t even know. Lucky for me, I never talk to anyone, so I could be put by any one of these idiots. “Kaitlyn Lock”, she pointed

It was a strange and terrifying September morning. The birds were chirping ridiculously loud, meaningless music was blaring out of the extremely old radio, and lastly the most greatest sound of them all - the bell. Most of us students sprinted out of the gym upon hearing the bell because they were afraid of being late to their next late, even though all the teachers told us that we could be a bit late to our classes - but only for the first week of school of course. Anyways, I ran out of the gym

Allan Poe’s theme in “The Bells” is the four stages of a person’s life. “The silver bell is appropriate for childhood, the golden bell is the one for youth and the maturing for marriage. The brazen bell represents the harsh and dangers of middle age, and the iron bell is suited to old age because of its heavy and melancholy tone and also because it is associated with the funeral knell. (Litfinder) In the first stanza, Poe never directly says the bells are Christmas bells, he uses the words “tinkle

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

at Richmond high school. Everyone was walking to or from class, getting in their lockers, or using the restroom. As everyone got to their class the bell rang and the teachers shut the doors. I was sitting in my first-hour waiting watching the clock tick slowly. I had already finished my work so I was just sitting quietly staring at the clock. The bell rang as we all went to our lockers, then our next class. In the second hour my phone went off while I was trying to listen to music, my friend messaged

I didn’t wake up to a call from him today, which was strange. He always called me the second he woke up. He probably just didn’t wake up to his alarm, I thought to myself. So I called him, again, and again, with no answer. I figured it was no big deal and went on with my morning routine. I threw my hair up into a bun with my favorite grey scrunchie, slipped into my favorite hoodie and made my way to my makeup stand. Once I finished my makeup I took out my scrunchie and ran a brush through my hair

Remus stood with back against the wall and his arms folded across his chest, as I sat on the floor across from him, reading out of my Charms book. We sat in silence for a while, it was a nice silence, a comfortable silence, the kind that you can only have with a friend, you know. It’s like, neither of you feel the need to say anything, but you don’t mind the lack of talking, because you’re just enjoying being with them. Remus is one of the few people I can have this kind of silence with.

In first grade, a boy named John— a notorious troublemaker—systematically chased every girl in our class during recess trying to kiss her on the lips. Most gave in eventually. It was easier to give in than keep running. When it was my turn, I turned and faced him, grabbed his glasses off his weasel face, and stomped on them on the hard blacktop. He ran to the principal’s office and cried. In fifth grade, I was asked to be a boy’s girlfriend over email. It was the first email I ever received. He actually

“Class, class - please. Just be quiet for the last five minutes so I can explain your next assignment.” “But if we don’t shut up, you won’t be able to tell us and then we don’t have to do it.” The class laughs as Mr. Beckett points his finger at the distraction, "Brody, one more outburst from you and you're going to miss the game this Friday night for serving detention." The boy sinks lower in his seat, mumbling to himself, "It's Kirsch." "Anyway, the assignment: you'll first be put into pairs