Personal Narrative: My Last Days In Middle School

I've never been quite the athletic type. For as long i can remember, sports have never been my thing. I’d always been picked last or second to last, in PE. back then, my inner pre-teen self would “blame it on the baby weight” or that i hadn’t hit puberty yet. But deep down i knew it was it was because I had two left feet, one good eye, and butter fingers. However, this year I was determined to end my clumsiness. It was my 8th grade year, my last days in middle school. Finally, after years of being at the bottom of the food chain, i was now one of the top dogs. Believe me that was great but, compared to the rest of my class I was still a church mouse. So the plan was to go out with a bang, just something to really show the class that all my screw ups and fails were in the past. In junior high, …show more content…
I was up to bat. Justice hill threw the ball and I swung like my popularity depended on it, which it did. It was a foul ball, which was fine with me because that meant I had another shot at redemption. This time, I put my heart into it. The ball flew past my classmates and right to me. I closed my eyes and heard a crack. The whole gym was silent, except for Mrs. Waite. “Run Cheriaca!!!” she screamed. So I took off! In my mind I felt like Usain Bolt, but something deep down like me I looked more like a deer running into headlights. I was so close to first base could taste it. Next thing I knew, I had passed the base and was headed straight for the bleachers. One second my feet were on the ground, then I was doing a flip into the bleachers and it all goes black.
A few minutes passed by, but I was too scared to open my eyes. When I finally did, my whole PE class was surrounding me. “Are you okay?!” Mrs. Waite sounded fearful. Honestly, I felt fine, so I got up stretched and smiled. “I’m fine ha-ha, that was kind of fun!” I said. After that the gym flooded with