My First Day At School-Personal Narrative

It was the first day of the second semester. I was officially halfway through sophomore year and I woke up with panic coursing through my veins. My anxiety kicked into hyperdrive as I struggled to get ready for school like I had been for years. Everything around me felt foreign and dangerous. Breakfast was immediately out; a pit of nausea had taken the place of my stomach. The thought of food almost made me dry heave. Oxygen only came in through short ragged breaths worsened by my constant shaking. The house I had lived in my entire life felt like a prison and I needed to escape as soon as possible. The frigid January air was no help. School wasn’t any better. Every little shove in the hallway made me jump. I clung to my friends like a last breath of air before taking a dive. First and second hour were safe. Familiar faces were scattered throughout the room; I was okay. Then third hour, English, I loved my teacher but as other students piled into the room fear bubbled up in my throat again. I felt trapped, I didn’t know anyone and I was scared. The teacher ran through the syllabus and I fought through tears. 50 minutes later the bell rang and I scrambled to gather my things.

I turned to see my teacher’s mildly concerned face. I choked back sobs and nodded. I just wanted to keep going, and carry on with the mind numbing routine of school. I knew if I stopped I would break down. But no one moved fast enough in the hallway and the trapped feeling flooded back into my soul again. I was in tears by the time I got to orchestra I was crying and praying that no one would notice. I let tears run down my face as I tried and failed to tune my instrument. Around me was a cacophony of sympathetic looks and those just choosing to ignore me. I wanted so badly to