Personal Narrative: One Step Into Royalton High School
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President Franklin D. Roosevelt once said, “ The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Clearly he had never had to step into Royalton High School at the start of seventh grade. I love school, but no pre-teen enjoys waking up in the morning to realize that a) she is starting seventh grade, b) she has to ride The Bus, c) she is attending a completely different school, and d) she is the “new” kid. Being the fresh meat has both its pros and cons, but the one thing that is most definitely a negative is all the attention. I would be the new exhibit in the zoo, only this time the visitors would get to poke me with a stick.
Not only did I have to undergo the attention as the “new” kid, but I also had to brave the worst beast of all time...The…show more content… All greeted me with varying degrees of curiosity and hostility. I also met Alli Moga, whom I distrusted on sight since she seemed like one of those annoying people who was always perfect; Ali P., who said everything loudly; and Jordan Malikowski, the only boy in the whole group. We all sat for a while as they asked me personal questions which I tried to answer with things that would tame their curiosity. When the bell did ring, we were herded into an assembly. The principal lectured, other people talked, but I didn’t listen. Finally, I managed to escape but was snatched back by the guidance counselor, Ms.…show more content… I thought as a reluctantly raised my hand. Guess what? I’m the only one.
I suffer through the next four periods, learning my teachers’ and fellow students’ names. They all seemed nice, but I knew eventually their true colors would show. Unfortunately, I had to endure the most tortuous part of the school day ever, LUNCH. Dun Dun Duhhh. Oh, the humanity of it all!! Seriously though, lunch stinks. Students flooded the commons, their faces ravenous with hunger, ready to feast on the unsuspecting pizza. Cautiously venturing over to the table containing the chatty girls and silent boys, I managed to insert myself into a chair and the conversation, all very ungracefully. We ate, drank, and were generally merry despite the food that tasted like the slop that pigs eat for dinner. Since I am such a horrible conversationalist, I left as soon as I could to my new found hideaway, the library. It is seriously the best place ever. Sadly, I had to retreat from my safe haven into study hall which flew by into band, then dragged on into my last class,