Vwoop, the crisp sound that can only create by the page flipping of outdated books is forever ingrained in my memory, just like certain characteristics of anyone 's best friend are ingrained in theirs. Perhaps identifying an inanimate object as a childhood best friend is peculiar but I took what I could get. Books can teach you so many things but somethings are cannot truly be perceived by text. Somethings have to be learned my feeling and interacting. Vwoop, I turned the page of my French book sophomore year scanning over the next pages poorly drawn, ridiculous, cartoon characters who were discussing lunch in speech bubbles. I couldn’t care less about the lesson; we were just going basic conjugations for the hundredth time. Ten minutes
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After two months or so I got into a pattern of waking up every day at 6:00 AM to the beeping of my too loud alarm clock, sluggishly crawling out of bed, brushing my hair and putting on my uniform. Looking somewhat presentable, I stumble out to the kitchen, get a cup of coffee—no sugar two creams—just in time to be able get out of the house to catch the bus. The bus ride was 45 minutes long and stuffed with those class mates whom would shout or run around like a hooligans for no reason other than they can. If I was lucky they would all be far to tired to exhibit their typical distasteful behavior and sleep all the way, I wasn’t typically this lucky. To drown out the noise and help to ignore the chaos surrounding me I would one again plug into my $15 MP3 player and focus on my text book. Once we had arrived I would rush to escape the rush of people that filled the hallways of Spaulding high school and find my lonely blue seat in the back of the classroom and wait for class to begin. Four months in I meet a girl named Brittany. We both clicked. She could translate the emotions, efforts and beliefs of the people around me into something I could understand. She gave me the missing pieces of the puzzle. I began to enjoy conversations with people and I found myself transforming into a more empathetic person. These four months were the most stressful months of my life, I cried and cried sometimes out of pure confusion and frustration. I debated dropping out and returning to typical
After two months or so I got into a pattern of waking up every day at 6:00 AM to the beeping of my too loud alarm clock, sluggishly crawling out of bed, brushing my hair and putting on my uniform. Looking somewhat presentable, I stumble out to the kitchen, get a cup of coffee—no sugar two creams—just in time to be able get out of the house to catch the bus. The bus ride was 45 minutes long and stuffed with those class mates whom would shout or run around like a hooligans for no reason other than they can. If I was lucky they would all be far to tired to exhibit their typical distasteful behavior and sleep all the way, I wasn’t typically this lucky. To drown out the noise and help to ignore the chaos surrounding me I would one again plug into my $15 MP3 player and focus on my text book. Once we had arrived I would rush to escape the rush of people that filled the hallways of Spaulding high school and find my lonely blue seat in the back of the classroom and wait for class to begin. Four months in I meet a girl named Brittany. We both clicked. She could translate the emotions, efforts and beliefs of the people around me into something I could understand. She gave me the missing pieces of the puzzle. I began to enjoy conversations with people and I found myself transforming into a more empathetic person. These four months were the most stressful months of my life, I cried and cried sometimes out of pure confusion and frustration. I debated dropping out and returning to typical