The First Day of School

(Hey, guys. I know I was promising the delicious piece of my vacation trip to Singapore. It's in the works, but not quite done yet. A lot of photos to go through. Haha. Truth is, I'm not really in such a good mood. I'm really sorry about that. It's something I'm trying to fix, my self-esteem. Anyways, here a quick story I wrote yesterday and the title says it all. Coincidentally, it's also my 30th post, so let's hope this'll be a milestone of the better things to come. Enjoy.)

Well, today I woke up at 3.30 AM. No, I'm not joking. There are witnesses. I felt it was a bit early, but also lingering very closely to my set wake-up time of 5.30 AM. So I just laid down there on my bed, listening to music on my cellphone and just relaxed for a bit, soaking up the fact that it was a Tuesday. It was July 13th. It was the first day of school.

    My sister woke up soon after I did, and went to the bathroom. As much as I encouraged her to go back to sleep, she just didn't feel sleepy anymore. She was excited to go to school too. Soon it was 5 AM and my sister went to take a bath. By 6 AM, even my brother was awake, and me and my sister who were all set decided to head out early.

    Man… I had forgotten how good waking up in the morning is. As soon as my dad pulled up by the motorcycle/bicycle parking lot and took in a breath of fresh air, I felt refreshed, rejuvenated. The air was still cold, and the ground wet with rain, probably one that showered while I was fast asleep. Passing the gates and passed the empty bicycle racks and the once peach-colored building of Elementary school, I got a bit nostalgic. I bid my sister goodbye and she went to see her class list. I couldn't help but look up to the second floor, to the corner class that once belonged to 6B.

    6B. I could still remember those days as if it were yesterday. When it was over, I was bummed, way bummed. I didn't want it to end. And though I've said this before, I try to see each year as its own without comparison to anything else, but sometimes I just hope it would be at least as good as 6B. Would this year be able to live up to that standard?

    I pushed that thought away from my mind for now. No use getting my hopes too high. I turned away from those sweet memories and walked down the red running track towards the dark green building of the Columbus Hall. I walked up the stairs to the now familiar front office (TU), a giant banner waving back at me.

    It said "Welcome", a nice greeting to the start of a new school year and this year's motto: "Becoming a Responsible Person: Care, Respect, Commit." Not exactly poetry, but a good theme none the less.

    Going up to the pink covered soft-board to look at the list of my class, I could feel the suspense within me. Some people came days before just to see their class, but I didn't see the point. Coming to school with no clue, now that was motivation. You came early just to see that list, and whether you liked it or not, you couldn't just go back home and sulk. It was just a little personal fun.

    I started to scan from the bottom of the 8F list, and worked my way to the top because I wanted to see my class last. Confused?

    I already knew I was in 8A, all because James texted to say we were in the same class. But other than that I knew little than the comments of my friends saying, "It's an interesting class." I knew next to nothing. Well, it was time to find out.

    I only came with one expectation, the only one I have each year: to be in the same class as my Best Friends. Most of those times, it wasn't granted, but it never really let me down. But for some reason, I couldn't push this expectation away. It really would be great to have the people I absolutely adore around on this year. 8th Grade. I needed a while to really take that in. I had big plans this year.

    I scanned the list, bottom from top. I couldn't help but do a double-blink. This list… these names… they were very interesting, in a really good but unpredictable way. I also did a re-take of my class number. Something about numbers just seemed intriguing. The meaning behind them, the sort of alluring mystery. I'm not all that superstitious, but I couldn't help but attach comparison to class letters and class numbers.


    That was my number. 23. It was so familiar, I couldn't believe I was in that spot again. I guess I had a bit of a flashback moment, standing in front of the board, like an idiot, and turned back the clock by 2 years.

    The 6th Grade. The final year at Laurensia Elementary, and it was incredible. So many things had happened. I could still remember every moment, every laugh, every frown, everyday with my beloved 6B. Would this year be just as great?

    Again, with the comparisons. It was way early. But I took the time to walk into my new class and just soak things in. Taking deep breathes. Soaking in the scenery I've come to be fond of at school. See Bob the Builder (yes, the guy in the yellow hardhat) be taped onto the class door next to writing "welcome to 8A". Stopping by ol' 7F and seeing it finally clean. Ha, ha.

    It was official. I'm an 8th Grader now.


Post a Comment