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A Day at Bedford

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My heavy backpack, with it’s brown leather bottom and black and grey designed top, weighed me down with every step.


I was heading to my next class through the messy hallway, with students bumping their own heavy bags into me. I would get easily annoyed at this, and get stuck behind some slow-moving student who was probably texting instead of walking. All the while, the stress of my homework and other objects in my bag were weighing down on me, both mentally and physically. It was just another terrible day at school.


My first hour, world history, was going to be a waste of time for me. I was usually half asleep by time i got to school, so I wouldn’t be able to think, nor learn. Most of the class I spend head down, eyes closed. I really need more sleep.


After walking a short distance and putting away some of the weight from my first class, I head on down to Mrs. Heartz class, the BEST class of all. The weight of my bag is nearly non-existent, as I have a lot of room to put my supplies down, whether it be on the hard floor or the wooden tables.


The next class is definitely not an easy one. French 1 is definitely not my type of class, as my memory is basically that of an alzheimer's patient.The farther we go, the more and more confusing it gets for me. All this information is weighing me down more than my bag.


My next class, Algebra 2, was going to be horrible. There’s never enough room to put my stuff, and I have to worry about my Chromebook on top of my normal paperwork. The kids are all rambunctious, and there’s a certain student who just wouldn’t give me a break. Alex; I can’t trust him father than i can see him. He has the face of an innocent little boy, but nothing could be farther from the truth. He could get away with murder and nobody would blink an eye. He is the most annoying person I’ve ever met. The worst part is, that I can’t wrap my head around the work! It’s infuriatingly difficult, and I feel like a moron because it seems like every other student just “gets” it. It would be nice if Ms. Mcmahon would slow down a bit.


After a lackluster lunch, I get to go to my favorite class of all, ceramics 3 with Mr. Douge. Ceramics is the only class where I don’t really have to think too hard about what I’m doing, and just sort of let it flow. Even better, I get a physical representation of what I’ve accomplished.


After that fun experience, there’s Chemistry. While my teacher, Mr. Varwig, is certainly a very eccentric character who makes learning fun, it doesn’t make it any easier. The memorization is a big problem, as I’ve stated earlier. While it may be hard, it sure as heck is a lot of fun when we get to do chemistry labs with a bunch of cool chemicals.


Finally, the best part of the day, going home. The only problem is the bullies on the bus. They’re relentless, and there’s nothing I can seem to do about it. What’s even worse is that it seems to get more and more terrible each day, as the bus gets louder and more ear-wrenching each time I ride home. Thankfully, it’s a somewhat short ride.




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