First Day of School

April 18, 2010
By Anonymous

I woke up on Monday morning to the sound of my alarm clock. I didn't want to wake up. It was my first day at my new school today. I was transferring schools because I had been bullied at my old school. I figured it would just be a repeat of my old school. But I got up anyways.

I climbed out of my bed and went straight to my dresser. "What on earth am I going to wear today?" I said out loud, hoping none of my family could hear me. After a long 2 minutes of pondering I settled on black skinnies, my tuxedo shirt with my black sweatshirt. I quickly did my eyeliner then I grabbed my school stuff and my cell and left to go to the bus stop. I kept on thinking that this was a mistake. But I knew it had to be done.

I went out the door to my bus stop, which according to the flyer the school sent me, was right across the street from my house. I was deadly afraid of my bus. Because my last bus had the worst bully on it. He would throw crap at me and call me suicidal emo kid. I hated my life then. Just then a short little girl came up to where I was standing. She seemed nice. I asked her if she was going to my new school. She said yes. I suddenly stopped feeling lonely.

Just then the bus came. The bus doors opened and we both walked on. I figured since I was new, I had to tell the bus driver that. So I said, "I'm a new student." to the bus driver. He looked at me and said, "Uh..okay?" Like I had told him that I was a violet leprechaun or something. I felt so embarrassed. I had no idea where to sit, so I picked a vacant seat to sit in.

After 5 stops we arrived at the school. It was huge. There were kids everywhere, and I didnt know any of them. According to the little memo thing that I got from the school I was supposed to go the Guidance Office to meet with the counselor. When I got in I told the receptionist my name and she told me to take a seat. I felt so alienated in the new school. I was split in two. Part of me was happy that I'm at a new place, part of me wanted to go back. But I couldnt go back. I wanted to cry. But I didnt.

After about 7 minutes of waiting, the guidance counselor came out and said, "Follow me." I didn't hear her at first, then I noticed that she left so I quickly followed. "So if this is what you wanted, then why do you look so sad?" She asked me after about a minute of silence. "I dont know. I'm just so lost, and I dont know anyone here." She nodded and then gave me my Schedule. I smiled then said "Thanks". She told me that she'd take me to my locker. So we went down the hall and to a row of blue lockers. She gave me my combo and let me put my stuff inside. Again I thanked her then we went on a tour of the school. It was so big and overwhelming that I didnt say anything. Eventually we made it to my 1st period class, Science.

Then the lady said, "have a nice day" and walked away. Tears came to my eyes but I refused to shed them. Then I walked inside the classroom and told the teacher I was new. He told me to have a seat in the front row. Of course, being Lydia I had to notice the guys first. I saw a really hot guy that I thought I knew. There was two girls sitting behind me. I decided to talk to them. I asked them how they liked the school. They said so & so. I noticed that the hot guy was looking at me, I figured it was just because I was new. The class period went by fast.

My next class was I had not a clue where to go, so I followed the room numbers. 225, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230, 231, 232!!! Eventually I found it. I entered and did the same routine as I had done in Science. Except this time I was in the back of the room all alone. Fun.

During math no one dared to talk to me. I figured they were all just extremely shy. Math flew by faster than science had. My next class was Art, I smiled a big fat retarded grin. I love Art, its my favorite subject ever. Its one of the few subjects that I can actually pass without trying. Art was on the 1st floor. So I went down the stairs, to the 1st floor. I knew the way by heart because thats the part of the tour I actually payed attention to.

When I entered people and art supplies were scattered around everywhere. I said the script I've been saying for 2 periods to the Art Teacher. She told me what the assignment was. It was to draw an animal. Then she introduced me to the people at my table, they seemed pretty nice. She told me that the girl sitting next to me could help me with it if I needed help. I thanked her than sat down to get to work. The girl sitting next to me didn't seem to care for me, she was too soaked up into drawing her lion. I started thinking of ideas of what to draw for this project. I thought that I'd draw a fish, I mean they are pretty simple, right? It turns out after one failure that drawing a fish is a piece of work. I decided that fish weren't my thing and turned to drawing a bear. Whatever works, right? By the time I had the outline to my bear drawn, the bell rang. I checked my schedule, it told me to go to orchestra, my favorite.

I went up to the orchestra room and said my stupid speech for the 4th time today to the teacher. She was fired up about my being in the class. Oh shit. I thought to myself. I had this teacher last year. I dont hate her or anything, its just that she can be a piece of work when she wants to be. She told me to just sit down for today, listen to the music and shit like that. Again, I knew no one in the class. I just texted the 1 friend I had the whole time. The bell rang. The next thing on my schedule was wedged inbetween 4th and 5th period, i had lunch. This was going to be hell for me. I knew it. I knew no one here, and I'd feel like an anti-social freak.

I walked over to the crowded cafeteria with my head hung low. I found an empty table to sit at but then someone said, "NO YOU CANT SIT THERE. ITS SAVED". I was ready to slap whoever said that....but I figured it was safer just to move on with my small pathetifc life. I finally found an empty table, it had crap all over it. But I figured that my life was crap, so I'd blend right in. "LYDIA SHARPE IS THAT YOU??!!!!?!?!" A familiar voice said. I looked around the room, seeing no one familiar. Then I looked behind myself and I saw my semi-friends waving their hands so I could sit with them. I told them about why I switched schools and crap. Of course, they didn't give a shit. They just were trying to be nice, which was a fail. I just felt emptier inside. During the whole lunch period I just stared at my food. I only picked at my chicken nuggets. Nobody noticed me, nobody gave a shit. The bell rang and people scrambled out of the lunch room and flooding the hallways. I waited until the hallways were clear and I went up the stairs to my next class.

Humanities, was my next class. I didn't know what the hell humanities was. I was seriously shaking when I entered my next class. I had no idea what the hell to expect. I read my script outloud to the teacher. She was delighted to have a new student, she was all smiley and shit. She told me that we were headed to the Computer lab because the children had to type some things up. She also told me that they were doing this project thing that was worth your whole grade basically. Since they had been working on it for like 80 years, I only had to do a research paper on whatever the hell I wanted to write a paper on. So I went off web exploring for period 5.

Then period 5 ended and when period 5 ends, period 6 starts. So I looked at the damn schedule to see what period 6 was. French. Why the hell was I in french? I can bearly speak english correctly. Well I did take Spanish for 8 years, but thats different. Spanish is fucking easy, its all UNO DOS TRES CUATRO CINCO SEIS SIETE OCHO NUEVE DIES. But french is a whole different story. Its all weird and f***ed up. Whatever, I figured I'd yell at whoever came up with this idea later. For now I had to bite the bullet and be strong.

Of course, French was on the 3rd floor in the 6th grade wing. I noticed that on my way there was my 6th grade math teachers room. If you knew me last year, I fucking HATED my 6th grade math teacher and she fucking hated me. Well I passed her room. Thank you Jesus that she did not lay her f***ing ugly eyes on me. Otherwise she'd murder me and I'd be dead. Well I did go to French, I just texted the whole time. I hated that class, I knew I'd fail it or at least come close to.

After French, was English. Which was extremely ironic in two ways. First of all back at my old school I had English then Spanish. Then theres to the sense that French and English are two way different subjects. I just laughed as I entered my new English class. The teacher was f***ing ugly. I swear I've never seen anything or anybody as ugly as her. She had the most obnoxious voice I have ever heard. If I had to choose any day in my life to bring a gun to school, it would have been that day. I wanted to shoot myself. In that class we were learning about commas and shit that I already knew. Lucky for me, that was the last class of the day. Unlucky for me, it was the longest most painful class of the day. When the bell rang I felt better, but then I realized that I had not a clue what my locker combo was. I figured I'd leave my crap at school and figure it out the next day. Then I went out to my ghetto hell bus and went home.

The author's comments:
I moved to a new school after I had been bullied so bad at my old school that I couldn't take it anymore.

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