Memoir
Grade 5...I'm finally getting out of here . Nothing to be scared about,nothing at all. "Hey Vijai!" "Yha Steven." "Who's your teacher?" "Ahh,Ms. Coy ." "Ms. Coy!!" "What?" "What's wrong with Ms. Coy?" "She's only the meanest teacher in P.S 95." "You're joking right?" I asked with both eyes open."Nope she is." "All right kids time to line up and meet your new teacher."
There she was. Her hair long and thick,her eyes covered with big black shades. Her towering height and sten voice lived up to the rumor. I will never forget that first time we entered our classroom. Of course I was the frist child on line because I was the smallest in the whole school. The windows ih the classroom were all open and I can remember the wind whispering their warnings as they made their exit from my new classroom.We all entered the room,all with the same thought and the same fear. Almost as if we were psychopathically linked. "Take any seat you want". "I won't assign seats for a few days". She spoke
with such confidenece. We all sat down and waited. My first senior year had begun.
During this school year I picked up many habits. For example
dooding on my school paper. It all started when our lovely was teaching her complicated lesson. Something to do with prime numbers. You know a number that only be itself and 1. Oh yes,to the wonderful world of pirmes. Anyway, we were on the number 5 and I just blanked out,like was just swept away by my neighbor's werewolf like sneeze. Straight through th ewooden door and into a world of nothingness. Almost as if I was sent to the cave Heman lit up with his mighty powered sword. But I have no powered sword to use. All I had was my pen. "That's it!" I laid the black ball on the tip of pen on the edge of my paper and began to draw. As I drew , my world filled with darkness began to light up. Like a second eyelid I open my already open eyes for the first time. And as I notice the hugh sketch on my paper I heard "Vijai are you there?""Haw; oh yea; yes Ms. Coy."I sat still knowing that she will soon see my work of art and blow her top like a steam kettle. I watched her eyes like a hawk to it's prey. She saw my drawing and didn't say a word. Noting. I was left with such an impression. Such confidence. From that day on like an addiction I always drew somewere on one of my papers.
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