A Day in the Life of a High School Student

Finding Nemo

I sat facing the clear wall which separated me from the aquarium. In the aquarium lived five fish. As if some virulent disease swept through the water, the fish began to die off, until only one goldfish remained. Now, the last fish swims alone through the water. While he swims, telepathically tells me, “Look at me, the strongest of the fish, still alive and swimming.” I know that he cannot stay swimming forever. And like the other fish, his time will come.

He continues to swim through the water. He continues to flap his fins. He continues to do all those things a fish does, however now he falls deeper into the water. It appeared that the goldfish lost all of his strength and now began his eternal slumber. With all remaining strength in his small body, the fish flapped his fins faster in an attempt to escape death, but he failed. His body became rigid and his fins stopped moving. His eyes protruded from his head, and the bubbles which came from his mouth, ceased to show. Slowly he drifted lower into the aquarium, but even during his fall, he had the same austere grace as he did when he swam. Still he seemed to say, “Look at me, the strongest of the fish, and the last one to die.” As he hit the bottom not a single pebble changed position.

I sit facing the aquarium, but now it is empty. The carcass of the fish has been removed. Truly this fish, the one now flowing through the drains underneath my school, was the strongest.
Coping Appropriately

Following the death of the English class pet, I found it necessary to move on, and in order to do this I needed to express happiness. To express happiness many tasks must be completed. One must complete all tasks: laugh, smile, jump.

For the reader unaware of what must be done to express happiness, I will, out of the kindness in my heart, explain the process to you. To begin expressing happiness one must smile. To smile simply move your lips up towards your ears. While doing that begin to open your lips and show the front of your teeth. This allows light to reflect off of your teeth and give the appearance of a bright face. A convivial laugh must follow the smile. To laugh open your mouth and constrict the vocal cords responsible for laughter. The process itself is much too hard to explain, but even oversimplified one should understand how to complete it. This next task, although not necessary to show happiness, truly adds to the emotion. To jump, bend at the knees and then push off from the ground. The more force applied to the ground, the higher the altitude that you will reach. To add even more to the jump, some people add a loud, “Hooray!” to their top of the jump. I must note that if any of these tasks prove difficult to the reader, medical help should be sought after, because something is wrong.

After expressing my happiness to move along from the death of the goldfish, reality struck me, and I realized I was still in school.
Class Time

I sit in class pondering about why I was there. The reason: I have no choice. I play the role of a student. In this role I am expected to go to school, work, eat, sleep.

Each day I experience the same thrilling experience called school. Here, I am expected to learn facts that will lead me into my future life. Suppose I am out on a school night, the first question someone asks me is, “Shouldn’t you be home studying?” My response, “Oh, I am wonderful too, thanks for asking!” All students are viewed like that. Being away from our work becomes a sign of future failure. It is even a putative fact among adults that kids out on a school night drink and do drugs. Why do you think that police talk to kids that look suspicious? The importance of school even shows up during school breaks. Take my last family gathering for example. My amiable Aunt Debbie asked me two questions: “How are you doing in school?” and “What classes are you taking?” Wait, I saw her two weeks prior to this gathering. Maybe she thinks my classes changed. Adults think students love school. Students think adults just like asking about it.
Outside of School

Following a hard day at school, I wander home where life undergoes a dramatic change. At home, opposed to being a student, I am an older sibling. My younger siblings (all three of them) tend to attract more attention from my parents. I receive attention only when my parents find something—usually presented by my younger siblings—to punish me for. Why? Allow me to explain.

I came along first, my parent’s first attempt at parenting. Thus, I received different treatment than my parents would give their eventual younger children. Think of me like an experiment. My parents punished me so many times, I lost count. Each punishment: a trial run for my parents. If it failed, my parents tried another. Once a punishment worked, my parents put it in their memory banks for when they would need to punish my younger siblings. Most importantly, my parents trained me for when I would become the parent of my siblings.

My younger siblings are like angels to my parents. My siblings always do everything right, regardless of what they do wrong. Why? The blame is always put on me because, “You were in charge! How could you let this happen?” Once again, my siblings get off the hook, while I get punished.

Regardless of the differences between myself and my siblings I feel my parents adequately prepared me for the job of role model. I know what I can and cannot do. Even if I do get punished, it is worth it.