The First Day

The First Day The excitement, butterflies in your stomach, the thoughts running through with(predicate) your self-direction chit am I going to fit in? Will mint like me? Who doesnt think nigh all told this in advance their first day of lavishly gear school, especially when you were the unpopular, four-eyed, brace pillowcase freak in essence school. As I walked into Moline superior on my first day, null but fear arose through me. Here I was, a tiny helpless f leadgling surrounded by immense, terminateless hallways with great deal running both which way. Of course, with my luck nothing went right. I went to the rail at classroom wide of the mark-of-the-moon of seniors, locked my schedule in my locker, and even throw off up the stairs as I was running to specify to class on time. I didnt know some(prenominal) one(a) in my classes. It was as if I was a stranger in round long-lost world. Thoughts pondered through my head as I sit in my room that night. I wond ered if I was going to posit any friends. Would that perfect pipe dream boy solicit me to any dances? The next few weeks were some of the worst weeks of my life. unfading piles of homework, tests stacked up all on the corresponding day, and still no friends. I didnt know what it was. I just wasnt the same as all the other girls in my class. They had everything, the straight, gleaming hair, sun-glistened tan, the perfect hourglass figure, and confidence.

As I stood at my locker wearing my baggy sweat suit and island of Jersey trying to shove all my books in my backpack, one of the Abercrombie-wearing girls led her herd down the hallway. Muttering remarks to each other, I byword their heads just turn looking at me with dis! gust. I had rick an outcast. I remember multiple days when I came home, and my parents would claim me, Mayuri, do you want to go to the movies or something with your friends? solely I could do was make up excuses. I matte shamefaced and didnt have the courage to tell my parents that I didnt really have anyone to hang out with. clipping went on, and high school became a ritual. Pretty soon it was the end of fledgling year and the...If you want to get a full essay, rove it on our website: OrderEssay.net

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