All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I've never been the best at writing an introduction or a beginning of the story. It's always been my weakest link. Everyone has THEIR weakest links, right?
I'll start off with where the 'scene' takes place. It was about first grade. Things never were bad in first grade. The only things REALLY bad that can happen to someone in first grade is their Popsicle stick being moved to yellow-- or worse- RED!!
Maybe the worst is that you have "the cooties," or you're last in line.
Not for me.
I remember the sixth graders were entering our first grade class.
Sixth graders were- well, special.
They're class rooms were so big (even their chairs!) they did so much more work than us. And- just look at them!! I can recall this one sixth grader. She seemed like the coolest there was. She looked unhealthily skinny, wearing shorts (it was warm and humid out) and unfortunately we could not wear tank-tops. Only shirts that covered our bare shoulders. (I never cared for that rule in that time, mostly because my mother was still picking out my clothes) They girl was also wearing a pretty two colored shirt. The base of the shirt was a lovely green. With pink flowers- to match her shorts of course! Her hair was blond- no, I mean REALLY blond as in platinum blonde. Her hair was in a sleek pony-tail. Her hair (even in the pony-tail) Fell down to her shoulders. She looked nice. My friends and without a doubt wanted to have her as our 'sixth grade buddy,'
When it was time to choose it was me, the lucky duck who got the stunning girl. I asked her what her name was. She replied with Cassie. I really liked that name. I always have and always will. We started off with the games. To bond with our buddy. We got along great!
After that our teacher called all the first graders to their desks, and the sixth graders to the floor. It was story time!
I hugged Cassie, and we departed.
When I was at my desk I tried to sum up Cassie as much as I could to my friends before the teachers could "Shush" us. I couldn't tell them everything. There was too much!
Finally we were "Shushed!"
The teacher pulled out a book. It was about animals. A chick to be precise. I absolutely hated it! I already new all there was to know about chicks! (Obviously not everything, I was in first grade)
I had gone to library yesterday. I got gotten a "Magic School-Bus" book. I had gotten threw a few pages the night before while my mother read to me. I hadn't gotten far enough.
I leaned in my chair and shoved my scrawny fingers in my desk. I was scanning the room, making sure no one saw me. I felt my hands tough the cool, hardback covers of my book. I could feel my heart pumping in my chest. I felt as if everyone around me could hear. I counted to three.
On three I practically threw it out of my desk- only caught by a few people.
I gently laid the book on my lap. That caught my friends attention. They tried to mouth words- only I couldn't understand. It seemed that said, "Stop!" or "No!!" It was too hard to tell.
I opened the book. Felt the crisp pages touch my warm skin. I started looking at the pages. As I looked up I saw, too, other kids were copying me. I felt some confidence. Other kids are as bored as me. I went back to reading my book. Until....
I heard the teacher pretty much screamed my name. I looked up - BUSTED! i could feel all the eyes on me. Staring, wondering what could I have possibly done? They smart girl, the 'goody-goody' get on the teachers nerves?!
I looked up and saw her glare. She looked at me, as if waiting for an explanation of some sort. I sat there, frozen. As if the whole world stopped what they were doing just to look at me get into trouble.
"I'm glad you like reading ____, but you need to STOP, and watch what I'm reading. I cannot believe you would do something like this! Move your stick to red, NOW!" She started saying calmly, but ended as a volcano exploding.
I jumped out of my chair. My legs were shaking, i felt the eyes follow me threw the room. I looked around the room, once more. I saw Cassie. She was looking at me- too. I could see in her eyes were astonishment, disappointment, and a little bit of amazement. I felt my faces turning tomato red. I was sweating. My shaky hands reached for the stick.
I saw my name. On the stick. The worst it have ever gotten was yellow. i felt as if I was tarnishing my name. The 'rebel' the 'bad kid'. I hated it. But the teacher said....
My hands grabbed a hold of it. I could feel the resistance on the sticky tack. I was holding it.
I could make a scene. Put my stick on the green. Pretend I shouldn't be in trouble. Or I could except the punishment i was given because on my actions.
Well, what do you think I did?
As a 'goody two shoes' I am, I moved my stick to red. I stumbled back to my seat. Ready to burst out crying. I had even embarrassed myself in front of Cassie!!
My friends mouthed something to me. It could be anything, "I told you so," "Sorry," or even a good 'ol, "Why'd you do it?!"
i didn't feel like trying to mouth back any words. I was too upset.
I focused on the book and tried to fight back the tears