Worst First Day

May 2, 2011
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Up until my high school years, I could not wait to leave elementary school. I wanted to be a big high school student with big high school responsibilities. Unlike most girls, I did not go to my high school for eighth grade. Even though I wanted to live the high school experience as soon as possible, I knew that my very best friends and I would all be separated when we left elementary school. Therefore, I wanted every last moment I could have with them. The summer before my freshman year, however, all of my feelings about high school began to change. It finally hit me like a ton of bricks that I would not know a single soul in my grade out of the two hundred and fifty students. Where am I going to sit for lunch? Who is going to talk to me? Are they going to think I’m a freak? Thinking back on that first day still makes me cringe from time to time, but, overall, it has become a story that I remember when thinking of how strong an individual I have become.

I woke up to my mom’s voice on that very first day of high school. Although she was attempting to cover up the shakiness in her voice by acting optimistically, she sounded so deeply anxious for me. She knew the kind of person I was and still am, one who worries and becomes nervous about anything and everything. I pretended that I didn’t need to hear her encouraging words, but truthfully, I would have given anything to stay home with her that day. I thought to myself that maybe because I was so nervous the day could only go up from there; however, I soon learned that this was not case. As I walked out of my front door to the car, I secretly wanted to ask my mom at that moment if I could just be home schooled for the next four years. Unsurprisingly, I was too scared to ask her. The whole ride to Mount Carmel was a silent one. The only noise to be heard was the sound of my legs shaking. When we approached school, I kissed and hugged my mom goodbye quickly because I did not want anyone to see a little freshman like me clinging on to her mom on the first day of school. Little did I realize how badly I was going to want to her hugs and kisses again during the next eight hours. I wanted to arrive early enough before the bell so that I could get the hang of things, but I did not think of where I would go once I finished trying to become acquainted with the buildings. I did not realize how many girls actually attended my high school until I walked the halls. Brown sweaters and plaid skirts were everywhere. There was not an inch of hallway not covered with brown attire. Yet, out of all of those girls, I did not know a single one. I prayed so hard that the bell would mysteriously ring ten minutes early to take me out of my misery. When it finally did ring, I hurried as fast as I could to my homeroom so that it looked like I had a reason for not talking to anyone. Homeroom was only the beginning to my ever-scarring day. After getting lost in the halls numerous times, I was ready to explode with tears. Lunch only made my day worse, in which a teacher who still remains a mystery to me shoved me to a table that had other loners like me. It was unbearably awkward, and all I wanted to do was go eat my lunch in the bathroom like Cady from Mean Girls. My last two classes of the day were slightly better because three o’clock seemed a bit more realistic. When the bell finally rang, my heart dropped and sank into my stomach with relief. I spotted my mom’s car instantly and instead of telling her all about it, I completely shut down and just said “It was fine.” I still don’t understand what came over me within those thirty seconds of walking to the car. As we arrived home, however, my emotions went on a rollercoaster ride. The moment I stepped in my front door, I began to sob. To this day I still do not know what I said, nor do I think my mom understood barely anything I said. The only thing I remember saying to my mom was “They all have North Faces, Mom! And I have a dumb LL Bean bag!” I was obviously oblivious to the fact that hundreds of girls walked around with LL Bean bags because that day I only paid attention to what I was lacking. Although my new school bag did ease my nerves a tad bit, my apprehension lasted for a few weeks.

Looking back, my first day brings back an array of feelings. While it is humorous to me now, I would not go back to the day if I got paid to do it. That day will stay in my memory due to the fact that it plays a part in who I am today.

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