The First

I had to share this because it is probably the best written, most humorous bit of liturature I've ever written. This is an un-dramitized re-telling, believe it or not, of my actual first day of public school. Sophomore year. Lol. Enjoy!
I have to say I'm relatively confident, but every ounce of me was nervous and self-conscious that day. I was shaking and having troubles swallowing as I walked into the office and muttered in a half-dead voice, "There's a blue Ford pick-up with their lights on." The office lady was so kind, "What was that, dear? Oh! A car! Write it down here and we'll announce it later." I nodded, assuming trying to use my vocal chords was more trouble than a "yes, ma'am" is worth. I ducked my head as I entered the hallway.
If you ask me today, what my experience was then, I'll use the phrase "like a Disney movie". One thing they always show in Disney movies is the girl getting books knocked out of her hands by the love of her life in the hallways. One thing they fail to portray is the rules of the road, high school hallway edition. You'd think I would pick up on the rules pretty quick; they're basically the same as a highway. But within 2 minutes I seemed to have broken every untold law of the infamous senior hallway.
People were begining to stare. I was flustered and forgot where I was going so I shuffled to the side of the hallway and pulled out my schedule. A teacher noticed my struggles and helped me out. Turns out he was my art teacher! Easy enough. He hooked a thumb to the door and I walked in. High school students are a very different breed. All the girls look different in the same ways. As though there were only 3-5 hairstyles and colors that were acceptable and you could wear whatever clothes you wanted as long as they looked a certain way. The boys are easy to group too. One thing I can say high-schoolers are good at is following stereotypes. The categories were sporty, overdressed, dorky (normal), artsy, and I-don't-give-a-sh** the last of which normally involved a lot of black and skulls and/or cowboy boots.
In my first hour there were mostly sporty and dorky kids. I actually knew a couple of them from soccer and swim team. All I could think was I had to make a good imppression. I officially represented every homeschooler and christian in the entire metro area. The teacher, Mr. Harvey, came in and introdused himself. He was not only the art teacher but also the boys' varsity basketball coach and a darn good one at that. I made it through most of class without talking. But by the time class was over, I hated my teacher. He had rules like "You can only use wood, #2 pencils". I had been drawing with the same mechanical pencil for the past 5 years. There ain't no way some art teacher was gunna make me change that.
I left, worried and stressed as I tried to get to my next class. Geometry extended. I didn't do very well in my algebra 1 class so the counseler placed me in a 'slower paced' class. Oh how little he knew...
I was the first in class. The teacher was a young, kind of round man. Welcoming smile. He knew my name and shook my hand and returned to typing on his computer. I sat down at what has become my signature seat: second isle from the middle, second row from the front. I pulled out my notebook pretending to doodle. In all honesty I was shaking and trying not to show how nervous I was.
The first boy came in. He was tall but you couldn't tell because he was hunched over and wringing his hands. He looked around the room and seemed to be muttering to himself. "How you doin' John!" The teacher, Mr. Worthington, called out. John looked around, "I-I-I don't know..." John sat down two seats away from me and started scratching his desk. In that moment he was dubbed "Creepy John" in my head and I referred to him as such in all my stories.
Next came a girl in a wheel chair and her friend pushing it. The girl in the wheel chair you could hear from the other end of school. Her voice was the kind that made your ears bleed. Her friend was quiet and just laughed politely. They both had more piercings than I've ever seen on anyone in person, straitened gothic style hair and a whole stick of eyeliner. John suddenly growled and stood hunched in his seat as he screamed at the top of his lungs ( and please excuse the language), "CHLOE STORM, YOU BITCH! What are you doing here!?" I shook in my seat. Just then John charged for Chloe and she laughed! "Oh, John, it's good to see you too." He growled again and went for her throat till Mr. Worthington called him off. John dropped his arms and darkly slunk back to his seat. The others came one by one. Chris, a tall, ugly kid with a mole the size of a dinner plate on his neck. Becky, the druggy gone christian-ish. Lexi, bleach blond, cute as a button, brainless sweetheart. And two others, one dropped out of school and the other changed schools because she broke her hand on someone's face.
Then there was me...