As the Snow Falls

My Time In Middle School

Posted on: January 25, 2010

I slip on my flowered dress, and zip it up, quickly glancing in the mirror making sure my hair didn’t mess up. My face lacked makeup, as I knew hundreds of tears would silently roll over my cheeks, eventually falling to the floor. I took a deep breath, calming myself for what was to come. I walked up the ocean carpeted stairs, the third to the top creaking as always. Walking over to the front door, I slipped on my brown fancy shoes that sort of resembled flip-flops, over my black ankle brace. Then I tugged my arms into the grey Aeropostale sweatshirt I loved so much, kissed my mom on the cheek, and screamed Good-bye! To my house. I was off on the last day of school.

        As I walked, and limped across the top field, my ankle badly sprained,  heading to school for the last time. My heart felt heavier; friends, recognition, familiarity, family, I was leaving them all in two short months. I tried to push all those thoughts from my mind, trying to make this a happy day, but not really succeeding. As my grade came into view, I realized they were only ‘my’ grade for the next four hours. I was losing them today. An audible sigh escaped through my mouth, as I walked up next to my friends. I looked over at my ex, my best friend, my enemy, all in one package and said “hey” not wanting the last day to be spoiled by our tensions. “Well ain’t someone colorful today?” he replied, smiling and giving me a hug, but behind that smile I saw in his eyes sadness; he was trying to keep a good face for me. God this is going to be such a hard day. I inwardly cringed.

       I kept talking to some more of my friends, who looked gorgeous in their brand new dresses, heels, and makeup- apparently they were hoping to be tear free; I couldn’t even take that chance.

      The first bell rang, allowing us into the building, and all the eighth graders, distinct by their fancy clothes, stampeded up the stairs as usual. I walked over to my locker, giving the knob the three twists needed to open it 18, 0, 34, click. It popped open to reveal the once colorful home away from home bare, empty of its memories as if it had not housed my items for the last nine months. Throwing my jacket into the locker, I simultaneously stripped my ankle of its supportive brace, instantly regretting. Heavily limping into the classroom, Mr. Agins greeted me with a smile and said ‘you ready Sarah?’ I replied with a nod, a smile, and an internal yes. I was ready, whether I wanted to be or not.

       Before I knew it the eighth graders, my classmates- some since preschool, all lined up in procession ready to graduate. We were marched down the stairs, for the all school procession, and strode into the auditorium, side by side. To my right was Travis Adams, a short, very talkative, annoying kid, and it was with him that I walked down the long aisle filled with staring eyes of the younger kids. We parted when we reached the front of the room, went around and took our seats. After all the students had reached their chair, the awards ceremony had begun.

      Time and time again, me and my best friend Lindsay were called up to the podium to receive awards, excellence in science, first clarinet in the state orchestra, excellence in language arts, excellence in algebra. The list went on and on- I think we got more awards combined than the rest of our grade. Finally the all school assembly was over, and we proceeded to walk out and into the adjacent cafeteria.

       The teachers all carefully lined us up again and brought us to the doors of the auditorium. Now it was time for the big stage. This time, to my left stood Collin Larkin. He was almost shorter than me, dark brown hair, fair skinned, and an excellent musician. We had done all-state together this year, and shared Mr. Dumas’s favorite student spot. Almost gliding down the aisle, with a red rose in my hand, I took my seat, only to be stared at by my attending family members.

       Yet again they went through, only this time with different awards that were more mentions- to make people not feel left out. Then it came, the famous Mr.Agins 8th Grade Slideshow- the slideshow that to this day makes me tear up. One of the songs on that slideshow was “Send Me on My Way” by Rusted Root, also the last song he played at our Eighth grade dance. I thought I was holding on well; tears barely being held back, a self-made remix of “I’m Yours” by Jason Mraz playing in the background, when the pictures stopped showing up and the slides said:

                                                               “In a few minutes”

                                                        “You will no longer be ours”

                                                  “You will no longer be a ‘Panther’”

                                                  “Most of you will become a ‘Bear’”

                                          “ But not for another four and a half minutes”

                                                    “Because there is one more song”

         At this point, all I could think was, I’m leaving them, my friends, my family, people I have known for my entire life, all for some stupid school! Although now I know that wasn’t right to think, I just remember that feeling of loss. Tears started dripping from the corners of my eyes, a silent acceptance of leaving, as through blurred eyes I tried to watch the rest of the slide show. With “Send Me On My Way” by Rusted Root playing in the background, the pictures went by as if those four minutes had been a few seconds and before I knew it, we were at the end of a twenty-two minute slide show, left with these words.

                                                     “ You are no longer 8th graders”

                                               “You are now freshmen in high school”

                                                          “Go and do great things”

                                                         “Just promise us one thing”

                                        “You will always remember your launching pad”

   And with a final shot of our grade getting a class picture,

“The End”

“The Beginning”

    The slideshow was over. I was no longer a member of the Stonington Community, I was in the land of the unknown. I was a pelican. Tears were now the Nile River on my face, as I desperately tried to stop them. They were still sneaking out of the corners of my squeezed-shut eyes, but I had managed to stop myself from publically bawling. Walking out of the auditorium again, we crossed into the food-ridden cafeteria, to meet our families and congregate with friends. I grabbed a brownie from the tray, hoping that eating would stop my hands from noticeably shaking, when I saw Jessica, tears streaming down her face, quickly walk through the crowd, and give me a hug. That did it for me; I had given up control of my stormy-blue eyes and let them become puffy and red. Tears openly flew down my now flushed face, with a new onslaught coming each time a crying friend decided to hug me. In all the pictures I look back on now, I see my face; bright red, staring out at me with a fake smile plastered on my head. Eventually I managed to escape the family, and head upstairs to collect my things. There I found my best friend again, and I started silently crying. I leaned up against the lockers, sliding down the wall until I was sitting on the ground, giving my emotions reign. My time in middle school had come to an end.


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