The Beginning of My Nightmare: First Day of High School

I took a deep breath as I wished I was anywhere but here the bell rang, and I let out a sigh of relief. The first day of my nightmare was assumed to be over, but I shortly realized that it had just begun. My alarm clock read 6:50 am the glare of the daylight tore my eyelids open like someone opening up a can. The snow hit my window like daggers. I rolled out of bed, and thought to myself “this is not just a nightmare, and this definitely is not Texas”. I checked my alarm clock once more which read 7:10 am I begun rushing to get ready for my first day at Portland High School. Struggling to get ready for the next 20 minutes felt like an eternity I stepped outside, and the cold air rushed through the sky sending chills through my body. The air smelled like a crisp winter, the car felt so cold its black exterior engulfed in white snow, and beige suede seats frozen to the touch. Driving down eastern promenade was like being in a winter postcard, trees with no leaves covered in snow, and the ground looked like a long pure white soft pillow. It felt like the longest ride of my 17 years of life. The school looked bigger on the inside then it did on the outside. It seemed old, and rundown, as I walked through the halls eyes were gunning in my direction like poisonous darts. I guess everyone could tell the new girl had arrived. The halls were complicated, and the day was as slow as a snail. Everyone’s eyes were still glued to my face, but it didn’t faze me because I walked through the school like I owned it.

The classroom felt like a deep dark abyss with creepy cold eyes staring like a predator stares at prey. The teacher welcomed me with open arms, and a wholesome smile which made the deep abyss seem like a calm sanctuary. The kids were sweet, and welcoming something that I was far from used to Texas was different, and this change was definitely different. A girl approached me as I analyzed her she fascinated me she was wearing the most beautiful brown hijab, her skin tone smooth, and brown like a Hershey kisses, and eyes like pools of honey with a bright smile. You never really realize how beautiful someone’s smile is until it is the first person to talk to you at a new school. The mysterious girl spoke like she knew me which made me have a little bit of skepticism, but also a sigh of relief. She never uttered her name to me, but her face is exceedingly memorable. We were in such deep conversation that I didn’t even notice the bell had rung. The rest of the day felt prolonged, and leisurely the kids looked like zombies cascading through the lifeless halls, and silenced classes. This next class hit me like a thunderous truck. The students were tremendously loud, and obnoxious. The teacher seemed out of tune, and not at all concerned with the class, but more concerned with telling the class stories. The more she told her stories the more I drifted from reality. I shut everything out from the ear-piercing students to the story telling teacher. The class had a grotesque odor like must, and damp rain that made my nose hairs tickle with displeasure. The class went on forever every second, and every minute felt longer than the last. Voices overlapping each other making each conversation go from a whisper to a roar. The only thing that kept me sane was my music which was more therapeutic now than it ever was before.

The bell finally rang for lunch I sat alone thinking “are people still staring?” or “is it embarrassing to sit alone” so many questions yet not enough answers. The lunch rooms were designed as a dining area filled with the same zombie like students who walked the halls. Everyone had what is called a “clique” they all sat at the same table no outsiders just the same circle they conversate with every day. Then someone decided to break the cycle, and invite me to their table. I felt welcomed the girls had a million questions, and I had a million answers. Lunch passed by in a flash I guess time does go by when you’re having fun. Reality snapped back into place, and it was back to the lifeless hallways, and elongated classes. I will never understand how a schedule can be so short, but feels so long. Tranquility snapped back into place as I entered the best class on my schedule which was Art class. The teacher was so gratifying, and had such a bright smile. She sat me down gave me paper, drawing utensils, and told me I can draw anything my heart desires. I decided to draw a horse I didn’t understand why I drew the horse, but it just felt right to draw. The drawing came out the same as the others a pure masterpiece, yet this one felt different it felt magical. I felt proud of it like it was the first thing I had ever drew. Although the class was only 45 minutes it felt like I had an eternity to draw anything I desired. The classroom had giant windows that overlooked the city, and the bay it was more beautiful than I had ever imagined. Drawing brought me to my happy place my feelings were poured out into my art everything I drew had passion. The bell rang shaking me out of my serenity, and back to the depressing reality.

It was the last class I had for the day, luckily it was on the same hallway as art. The auditorium was delineated similarly to a college classroom. The desks were crumbled together with a wave of students sitting at each one. All those kids, and not a word or sound uttered it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The teacher came in, and uttered the words “if anyone has a pass you can go” the wave of students became a tsunami every student rushed to the front like their lives depended on it. The once crowded area became empty, quiet, and alone. Soon 5 minutes became 10, and 10 became 30 minutes of nothingness just silence. The silence was eating away at me my phone became less entertaining by the minute. Finally after an hour and a half of silence and boredom Calvary had finally arrived. The sweet sound of the dismissal bell was like music to my soft brown ears. I rushed to my mother’s car got in, slumped into the beige suede passenger seat, and let out a sigh of relief. The first day of my nightmare was assumed to be over, but I shortly realized that it was just the beginning.