Personal Narrative: Observation In Latin America
2143 Words
9 Pages
It’s Monday, December 9th. Today just seems unusual, like something big is going to happen! I wonder what it will be for a split second, then go back to studying for the Latin America quiz we have tomorrow. Mr. Fielder announces what questions we should highlight on our worksheets. I watch him go back to his desk. I look up and out the window, I see the glistening shimmer of fresh snow dancing in the sky. I cherish every second of it, wishing the time would go by slower. As time creeps closer to 12:20 p.m., the more I shudder at the thought of having to go to room 224. I finish making my flashcards, using splendid handwriting, and proper spelling and grammar. The clock whispers 12:18 p.m. in my ear, I turn white as a ghost. “Good work today
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The elevator tells me we settled, on the last floor, with a ding, and a screech, elevator doors open. I step out unsteadily. There is only one hallway in the basement, that leads to the only classroom and back to the elevator, or stairs. The classroom is dead ahead. Mr. Fiedler must have let us out really early. I reach the door, it has the body of an oval, with two black windows, but you can’t see anything through them. The door is scorching hot with a massive layer of ash. Scarcely attached to the door, is a charred Christmas wreath buried behind dozens of murky chains. Cautiously, I grab my plastic flimsy ruler. Snap! I break the ruler on my leg, holding my fingers as distant as I possibly can, I swiftly open the door, with only half, of the injured ruler …show more content…
A roar of anger blows up the classroom, that is now on the other side of the bookcase. I wonder around the room questioning which path to take. I pace over to the introduction of each path. As I look down the long hallway, I notice a cry for help coming behind one of the doors. I want to go and see what is going on, but the Mrs.Berntson has demolished ,most of the bookcase. And that was my cue to leave! I break to spiral stair case, skipping each step until I reach the ruling platform. I trudge over to the balcony and peek over. Right as I glance at the bookcase Mrs.Berntson charges though it
The elevator tells me we settled, on the last floor, with a ding, and a screech, elevator doors open. I step out unsteadily. There is only one hallway in the basement, that leads to the only classroom and back to the elevator, or stairs. The classroom is dead ahead. Mr. Fiedler must have let us out really early. I reach the door, it has the body of an oval, with two black windows, but you can’t see anything through them. The door is scorching hot with a massive layer of ash. Scarcely attached to the door, is a charred Christmas wreath buried behind dozens of murky chains. Cautiously, I grab my plastic flimsy ruler. Snap! I break the ruler on my leg, holding my fingers as distant as I possibly can, I swiftly open the door, with only half, of the injured ruler …show more content…
A roar of anger blows up the classroom, that is now on the other side of the bookcase. I wonder around the room questioning which path to take. I pace over to the introduction of each path. As I look down the long hallway, I notice a cry for help coming behind one of the doors. I want to go and see what is going on, but the Mrs.Berntson has demolished ,most of the bookcase. And that was my cue to leave! I break to spiral stair case, skipping each step until I reach the ruling platform. I trudge over to the balcony and peek over. Right as I glance at the bookcase Mrs.Berntson charges though it