I thought school was kinda’ fun and I enjoyed playing with my friends at recess. My life was normal. But one day after school my Dad called us all into the family room. My Dad was usually one to always be happy and not one to easily show defeat, but that day he looked sort of dejected as we all sat down
Soon my friends come to join me and we laughed and joked about how the day went and which teacher gave the most homework or what couple ended it and made a big scene in the hallway. My parents never told me to gossip but it was always fun to talk about the news around school. When the bus finally picks me up and drops me off, I still have a long walk back to my house in the heat of the
It was finally here, the last day of school. I remember waiting anxiously for the final bell that year. For some reason, everyone around me was holding a bottle of water. At first I could not understand this paradox; it was freezing, who could dare pour water down his throat. Everything seemed so weird that day.
Depression has been haunting me all my life. When I was around the age of 10 I wrote a note to my sister explaining to her that I did not want to be alive anymore. Though I do not remember how I felt at the time I do know that a child should never have to feel that way. I was never abused, my parents loved me and my sister loved me, it is difficult to wrap my head around why I felt that way as a child. Throughout middle school I remember I would cry to my best friend, Maria during lunch time in hopes to have some of the pain subside.
Anxiety spread across the school like an epidemic, and like all sicknesses, kept the students at home. Only this time they aren’t resting. The bell indicating the start of school rang. My teacher looked at the doorway to see if there was anyone else coming. There wasn’t She got up and closed the door, ready to start class with half her students.
This was it, my last year of being able to enjoy childhood before I went off and had to be an adult. I decided to take a deep breath and just thank God for helping me get this far in life and give this year to Him. As I walked out of the front door, the nervous feelings went away and the next thing I knew was that my soul was full of excitement. I wasn’t worried about this being my last year, but instead I was ready, pumped, and excited for the journey ahead. I thought to myself that I am going to make this year; this last year of high school the best yet.
Sure, all the girls were nice enough, and I had found people to sit with at lunch, but it all just made me miss my two best friends even more. I missed having crazy conversations at lunch, private jokes that only we got, and just having someone to hang out with after school. I had always loved school before because it was a place I got to be with my friends, but this year was different. This year I did not love school. In fact, I started to dread going to school the next day because I felt like an outsider.
Entering middle-school, I lost my motivation to do well in school. I can only recall my experiences in middle-school crying and alone in the shadows. The desolate areas I
My last day at school was the hardest. In the morning we had assembly and the choir dedicated the British national anthem to me and at the end of the end the head master pulled me out the front and the school clapped me good bye. Many of my friends brought me good bye presents. I had spent almost my whole schooling life with these 20 or so kids, it was like leaving a family. The whole class had prepared at gift for me.
Saying goodbye to your best friends, having a last look at the class that one day nursed you just like a mom, smelling the dusty chairs and tables, which you have always hated and complain about, for one more time. And then with tearful eyes, you pack your stuff and leave. My father told me that the school, which I am moving to, is one of the best schools around, and that the teaching is at high standard teaching. As a result of the highly