31 Days of August

Day 16: The Reality

Day 16: Write a scene based off something that occurred in your life.

“Bye, Dad!” you called, your lively tone not capable of reflecting your true emotions in the slightest.

“Bye,” he returned with a gentle smile.

After closing the car door--the black metal coming across dull in the gray light--you went around to the back of the vehicle where the trunk had already been popped open. Your charcoal backpack found its way to your back, and it felt as though boulders had been packed within. You stood stationary for a brief moment, contemplating further actions.

Behaving as the traitors they were, your feet carried you the short distance across the red pathway that was paved with engraved names, a remnant of a school fundraiser from a few years back. As you arrived at the door, a single finger brushed across the button that requested entrance to the building. Almost instantaneously, you were admitted, and made your way into the structure that you recognized well.

“Hi,” greeted a lady from the front office, upon your entering.

“Hi,” you said quietly, making sure that she heard.

While walking down an elongated corridor--your feet practically on autopilot--you passed a few offices, not even bothering to check if they were occupied. Blue lockers belonging to your cohorts blurred by your vision, and then you turned at a corner. A new set of metal storage units came into view, resembling a fleet of freshly polished fire trucks.

As you made your way past the rooms in which you generally preformed the relatively passive feat of learning, a heavier ambience commenced. Though you were unable to locate it, something about the atmosphere wasn’t the same.

Just a short month prior, you had been so content with your immediate world. You couldn’t envision a place without the people you had known for nine years. It was the place in which you had learned countless entities vital to your intellect and advancement in the universe around. Reading. Writing. Grammar. Organizational skills. Comprehension of texts. The fact that vinegar and baking soda generated a unique chemical reaction that was fun to continuously test out. Social norms. How to “play well” with others. That people could be mean. How to create an accurate bibliography. And that you weren’t the biggest fan of spending innumerable hours on homework. They all were just the apex of twelve glaciers full of knowledge you had accumulated over the years. You had developed a love of anything regarding literature and a trifling resentment towards the tedious task of creating flashcards. It was where you had lost your first tooth and received the monumental news of when metal cages of annoyance would be placed in your mouth.

You had spent years waiting to be one of the “big kids” that helped out with after school activities and clubs, and finally was one. You enjoyed listening to teachers go off on random tangents about absolutely nothing, and equally relished the occasional discussion that would arise in a Language Arts class about why your educator drank at least one energy drink per day, if not four. In Social Studies, debating politics and reviewing Herman Cain’s most recent scandals were things you looked forward to, in addition to delving into historical excerpts relating to the establishment of the democrat country in which you lived. The orderly process that encompassed the report card grade defining Science Fair and even dreary but informative math classes that felt as though they would never end had grown on you.

Though your love for what most people considered "art" had slowly deteriorated over the years due to a teacher some deemed slightly unstable and “crazy,” the individuals around you were how you found consolation in the class that occurred only once a week. You had been with most of them since kindergarten, and they were a very influential part of your growing up. Though you were your own person, your classmates aided a great deal in shaping who you were on a more interpersonal level. In the extensive amount of time that you had known each other, you had become a family.

Like most families, you had your conflicts. It was a small school, so gossip spread like an infectious virus, and through it, verbal skirmishes were generally caused. Over the years, rivalries arose, both in academic terms and socially. Though hardships surfaced in your closely interwoven private school, you always managed to prevail; you were family.

From the teachers you had inside jokes with to the physical structure itself being your second home, you didn’t possess the capability to imagine leaving. Change wasn’t a thing you enjoyed, especially as significant as the one occurring in a mere year. Though your sheltered life was limited, it was what you knew and liked.

After two more classrooms and a set of lockers that looked as though they had been modeled after a puke-like shade passed by your sight, you suddenly realized that water was accumulating at the creases of your eyes. Before you knew what was happening, bittersweet tears were streaming down your face in slow motion. You continued your journey down the hall of now orange lockers, trying to blink away the beads of liquid that were on a voyage to the sides of your face as you contemplated your limitless future.

You opened your mouth, drawing in the simple yet powerful element of air. You then exhaled the substance known as carbon dioxide, departing from your lungs. Though you knew it wouldn’t help in the long run, a deep breath was exactly what you needed at the moment.

Shakily, you took your first few steps towards the room that contained family members that weren’t related to you from a biological standpoint.

“Hey!” someone called upon your arrival.

“Hi,” you responded calmly, taking in the busy scene at which you had arrived.

Rowdy adolescents were buzzing around the room, instead of doing the task that had been alloted to them. A few boys were joking around with each other, creating a small ruccus that you didn't mind. Girls were scattered about the room, laughing as they conversed and observed the young men. It was a typical spectacle—nothing out of the ordinary to the average observer.

"So," a foregein teacher whose forte wasn't English addressed you, "how was the high school?"

Discreetly, you wiped away a tear that had somehow found its way at the corner of your eye. "Amazing," you managed to choke out, the one word not doing justice to the experience you had just encountered.

You had just been on a tour of the high school you had always claimed to want to go to after middle school. After that tour, though, you knew that it wasn't just the easy answer to the question of, "Where are you going to high school?" Now, it was your dream and the reality. Though you still had to get in, there wasn't a doubt in your mind that your SSAT scores and application wouldn't land you a spot in the freshman class. It was just barely November, yet you didn't know how you would be able to make it through the rest of the year after having been exposed to something so unbelievable.

You were ready to go from being on the end of the age spectrum of students to the very beginning again. The classes you would be taking were so different in a sense, and yet, still all the same subjects. Your grade would consist of more than twenty-two people, permitting your the opportunity to expand your pool of friends. You wouldn't be the smartest one anymore. So many things would change for you, but you didn’t mind. You were ready to leave, and wanted nothing more than to go to high school.

The small K-8 school that you been raised in felt small and constricting. People who you had once laughed and eaten lunch with now felt distant--like strangers. The education you were getting was good, but you weren't challenged enough. You wanted more. You wanted the high school. But most importantly, you just wanted to leave and finish eighth grade, never looking back on what was. You were ready for more--whatever more might be.