Looking Back To High School-Personal Narrative
Dear High School, I think I have the most to write about with you. You are not one place; you are four years that I've experienced in two places. My first year with you was at Gateway. Out of my four years, that is the one I'll always remember. It was my first year out of middle school and the way people talked about it made it seem as if you were the big, scary, bully who was coming after me. However, when I finally got there, it seemed the opposite. You weren't scary, mean, or anything else. I had gone over my plan over and over, "Get off the bus, then go straight to homeroom, no socialization." So when I finally got my feet off of the bus and onto the cement, I made my way for my homeroom. I walked fast and focused, no one was going to make me miss homeroom. I arrived at the classroom and no one was there, I faced a dilemma, "Go in an hour early, or stand here in silence." I chose the latter. I kept my eyes on my feet, letting my music flow into my ears as I kicked around little rocks on the pavement. I continued to stand there until the teacher opened his door around 7:00. Being the first one there didn't surprise me, I
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I had met both of them previously via Katie, but I wasn't close with them. So, being the confused, tired, and scared Freshman I was, I just sat down with them, after staring at them for a moment. I've always called myself an open book, however, I felt more open and willing to talk to both of them than I had ever been. It was strange at first because I had talked more than I had in a long time. Back in middle school, I was an annoying little bug you couldn't get rid of, so I didn't talk very much. I was actually social and it made me realize I loved talking and telling stories. After my morning with them, they became my routine. I spent my time with people who really enjoyed my company, whereas before I was the third person on a sidewalk meant for
I had met both of them previously via Katie, but I wasn't close with them. So, being the confused, tired, and scared Freshman I was, I just sat down with them, after staring at them for a moment. I've always called myself an open book, however, I felt more open and willing to talk to both of them than I had ever been. It was strange at first because I had talked more than I had in a long time. Back in middle school, I was an annoying little bug you couldn't get rid of, so I didn't talk very much. I was actually social and it made me realize I loved talking and telling stories. After my morning with them, they became my routine. I spent my time with people who really enjoyed my company, whereas before I was the third person on a sidewalk meant for