First Person Narrative

The sun was divulge like on any some other twenty-four hours. Is this day any different from another? That is what I asked myself as I strolled to the carriage stop at 6:30 am. As I got on the bus; it seemed like I was the only one up at this hour. Everybody else on the bus was out cold. I really didnt mind the quiet cause to the High School though. As, I walked into the building; everything seemed so different. This was my initiatory day as an eight grader and also my first day as a student of Westbury Middle school. I had unsloped moved from Elmhurst, Queens. I moved only like 20 miles; which is nothing compared to others. Then again, a new unfamiliar induct feels all the same. Especially if you move from a majority ovalbumin neighborhood into a much more diverse neighborhood. curiously at the time I was accustomed to a clear neighborhood; that all was about to change.

I glanced at my docket. The schedule was written in a very different manner as well. It ranged from Day 1 to Day 6. What day is today? I looked around and found a sign posted up stating: Today is Day 2. I checked my schedule once more. It stated Period 1--Day 2------Sequential 2, Room 214.

This day was already awkward; as it was my first day in a new school. Yet, first period set out to project a pretty high precedent. My first Class was maths. mathematics was fine with me. Math was just a bunch of numbers racket that I had learned to manipulate to get me the answers over the years. However, my math class was in the high school; since I was twain years advanced. So in that class I stuck out like a sore...

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