Personal Narrative: Mrs. Orsillo In High School

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I was so close, just a few feet behind the irritatingly bright mop of red hair. My whole body was so pumped on adrenaline that I couldn’t even feel my legs. Only the consciousness that they were moving, fast. My arms reached out in front of me, itching to get ahold of the fluorescent green ball that I have set my sights on. Just as I was about to overtake Preston, I lost control of my footing and plop! Down I went, humiliated, as the ball sped away in the opposite direction, my victory along with it.
The morning had started out absolutely fine. Everyone in Miss McKenzie’s fifth grade class was thrilled to see what Mrs. Orsillo had in store for our last PE class of our lower school careers. Mrs. Orsillo was a very solid lady, a stereotypical gym teacher, and not many people liked her ‘tough love’ style of teaching. I liked her though, because she wasn’t like the other PE
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Girls, grab the jerseys, boys, other side.” She announced. We cheered as we scurried off to opposite ends of the makeshift gym that was shared with the cafeteria. The echo of lively chatter from the nearby lunch line gave the room a comfortable feeling and the Covenant Day School lion mascot was painted right in the middle of the gym floor, encouraging us to play our best. The game was surprisingly close , probably because the boys assumed they had it in the bag and their arrogance had made them sloppy. We were all doing our part on my team, especially defense, but our offence was lacking. Going out of my comfort zone, I decided to step up to the offensive side. If you have never played ultimate handball, the rules are simple. It’s basically basketball, but no dribbling and soccer goals instead of hoops. There wasn’t much going on in the game when I moved positions, it was just a larger scale version of hot potato. All of the sudden, Preston, redheaded, obnoxious, condescending Preston, snatched the innocent little ball right out of the

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