It’s August of 2014. Groaning, I wake up, my eyes sore. My eyes are used to the summer schedule. I wonder why I’m awake, but then quickly realize that today is the first day of school! But not just any school. The first day of middle school!
Quickly, I get out of bed and rush to get ready. I zip from the bathroom to my breakfast table. Carelessly, I choke down the sugary cereal, Cookie Crisp, down in less than a minute and a few moments later, I’m ready to go to school. I’m hyped! I run to the end of the street and hurdle over a kid’s backpack.
“Hey!” he yelled. Looking back at the kid, I cross the crosswalk and excitedly press the button too many times. I run across the street, causing many people to honk, so I stop running and start walking. Feeling happy, I walk till I reach my middle school campus and then I become very nervous. The very atmosphere of the middle school appears scary. My palms start to get sweaty and my face starts heating up. My legs starts to shake. Shaking in fear, I walk to the gate, stop, then wonder what to do. I finally decide to walk past the “Searidge Middle, Home of the Fire Ants!” sign and wonder why in the world a school would have an ant as their mascot.
As I walk to my classroom, a kid who was in my class last year trips me, but fortunately, I regain my balance. My ears burn as I approach the line because many people saw me stumble, and they started to laugh. Sweating out of embarrassment, I reach the line of my first period classroom. My mind swirls with excitement and fear. What may be inside I wonder? Could it be a witch-like teacher that’s mean and assigns us a lot of work? It could be. Will I have a great year? Will I hate this year and cry every day? After all, previous students that are my friends told me to watch out for this teacher. My mind tells me that the teacher will be like sweet 'n sour sauce. Sweet in the beginning, then sour later. My teacher comes to the line outside her classroom. I look at my teacher. She looks very slim and small, with black hair. I enter the classroom and an aroma of coffee and doughnuts fill the air.
I carefully select a seat, and notice that my best friend, John Gapple, is sitting in front of me. John is a tall, light brown skinned person with golden-brown hair and brown eyes. My teacher takes attendance and introduces herself. She opens her mouth. Flinching, I expect a loud voice. but she shocks me. “My name is Trixie Robertsonn.” she begins in a quiet voice, “you have a five-page essay for homework today for homework!” A chorus of “Okay!” fills the class. Not me though, my stomach became full of butterflies. Then she shrieks, “Seriously? You didn’t fall for it? Darn it! Don’t worry, there is no homework, I’m just joking. I’m also surprised that you didn’t catch the ‘trick’ in my fake name, Trixie.” A huge tidal wave of relief washes me over, but not because I learn her real name, but because there actually is no homework. I may never believe a teacher again.
We then began our work, which was a worksheet. I was expecting an essay prompt, but I got a rules and expectations worksheet. The class worked together on it. A bell rang, and Mrs. Robertsonn, our teacher, said that it is now second period and that in sixth grade here, in Searidge Middle, us sixth graders don’t have to switch classrooms every period. So in second period, we spent the entire period doing icebreakers, a game where people learn the names of everyone else. It was a painful period, and John and I talked the entire time. We were talking about a popular football video game that we play.
John quietly bragged, “Yo, I’m more lucky than you. This makes me better than you at the game. I don’t even play as much and I’m better than you. I’m probably the luckiest kid to ever play it!”
I shrug. It’s usually not like him to talk like this. It seemed like he’s changed over the summer. I won’t let him get away with this insult like this!
I finally reply, “Try having some actual skill at something. It’ll take years before you finally can.”
We argue for the rest of the period. In the end, he won, but at least I put up a good fight.
The bell rang again, and it was break! John and I walk out together, not knowing what to expect. We didn’t know where our other friends were. This is a problem because we didn’t want them to think that we ditched them. I stayed close to John, as I didn’t want to lose him. We spent the entire break to explore the campus and try to find our friends. We unfortunately ran out of time as the bell chimed and I had to part with John. I had to return to Mrs. Robertsonn’s room. I didn’t know what to expect. I got a great surprise. Mrs. Wong had students in this class that I had never seen. Other kids from the other class were in my class. We spent the period watching a movie. Time flew by and the bell rang again, signaling for P.E. I approached the locker room. The male P.E teachers told us to leave our bags in the locker room. As I emerge from the boy’s locker room, I wonder if my P.E teacher will make me run a lot.
If so, then I will die during the course of the year, I think to myself. As I sit down, I see my friend John again. He and another friend of mine are both in my class this year! I feel very happy. The first day of P.E, we went into the gym and attended P.E assemblies. We talked about safety and runs and how we were to be prepared for anything. Mr. Van Allen was the host of the assembly. My friends and I talked the whole time. What was bad was that the Mrs. Urigami, our P.E teacher, called us “The Three Gossip Girls” a nickname that stood out till the last day of P.E. Mr. Van Allen is busy doing twenty push-ups when the bell rang. We are finally dismissed for lunch. John, Frank (the other friend), and I were together. Lunch is scary. I starve, we can’t find our other friends, and I have a close call with an eighth grader as I almost spill chocolate milk on him. We explore the hallways and places because we have time. As time goes on, we finally find our friends during the end of lunch. They were in front of their classrooms, which was weird because I called them all before, telling them not to stay in front of their classrooms and instead  go where everyone went. All my friends and I organized a meeting area and went on with our day. John and I proceeded to fifth period. When we reach there, I stand outside my fifth period room. Something feels wrong. I check to see if I have my bag. I did. I check around for my friends. They’re here. I wonder what is wrong. I finally realize that my lunch bag is missing. On the first day! There is about thirty seconds of lunch remaining, and I didn’t want to make a bad impression on my new science/math teacher. I enter the classroom, feeling more confident this time. As I enter the classroom a deep smell of Chinese food fills the air. I sit with John and a few other people I knew from last year. My teacher introduced herself as Ms. Sutter. She surprised me with a loud voice. She works and is partnered with a person that is completely the opposite from her. Ms. Sutter is a teacher that loves food. She has short brown hair with curls at the end. She is a little tall and has brown-peach skin. Unfortunately, during 5th period, I get an impression that my school year was going to be very bad because a few students were being disruptive in class. Already, my math/science teacher Ms. Sutter had already chewed out a few people for talking when she was. I am freaking out right now. I didn’t want to be called out and chewed out. It’s embarrassing! I somehow made it through the end of 5th period. I thought that 6th period would be worse.  As we went through the rules and regulations, my brain was getting defried. It was literally hurting because I was so bored. My boredom was to such extent that I yawned every ten seconds and John (who sat in front of me again) couldn't ease the boredom.
“Do you know what that kid said?” John asks me.
“Whaa? Oh, I wasn’t paying attention to either the teacher or you.” I reply.
“Seriously? I asked ‘Do you know what that kid said’.” John retorts.
I was taken aback by his tone and riposted, “No, but at least I have ears to pay attention to the teacher, unlike you.”John rolls his eyes and says, grinning like a moron, “Whatever, anyways, he said that he ate a rock, digested it, and pooped it out.”
I sigh, “This isn’t the funniest thing you’ve ever said. Actually, it isn’t even funny, it’s disgusting. Now shut up.” John stops talking and starts paying attention to the teacher. Ms. Sutter sees us talking and moves us away from each other. I give John one of my told-you-so looks.
When I am finally let out of my (last period) classroom, I sprint as quickly as I can to get to the lunch table where I had left my lunch box. Panting, I feel very happy to be reunited with my beautiful green and blue bird lunch box. I know my mom wouldn't be mad. I then conclude that I have to be more responsible and that this would never happen again. I feel like school won’t be scary and that the teachers are nice. I just need to be a bit more responsible. I run to the school gate, where John is waiting for me. We walk home together in the hot sun, thus ending a long, stressful, and a pretty awesome day.