I was sitting in class with my stomach in a knot and my heart in my throat. My legs turned into jell-o as if the teacher had used a magic spell, “Debanhi to the dean’s office”. I don’t know exactly how I did it but the next thing I know I was sitting in the dean’s office. It was getting harder to breath and my mouth was dry. It wasn’t the Principal or dean that made me nervous, let alone the officer, what made me all shaky and nervous was the thought of my parents finding out about everything I had done in school. How their perfect little angel could not only pull the fire alarm, but failed 3 classes and ditched excessively?

My mom was the one to walk into the dean’s office next, following the translator. I could not get my eyes to look at my own mom in the eye, every thought that ran through my head was just worse than the last. Finally in the car, where it was so quiet I swear I felt my mom could listen to my thoughts, I looked at her face and my tears ran down my face as if someone had opened the water faucet.
Nothing I said convinced them, it was almost as if I had lost my voice and my parents wouldn’t listen. I promised them I would never again ditch one class, that I would bring my grades up, but they had already lost their trust in me. My parents took things into their own hands and transferred me to another school that would make my life miserable.
Even though I was sitting in a table full of people in lunch, I could have been sitting alone in a room. I felt my face heat up as tears accumulated in my eyes, but I couldn’t let these people see my pain. The only thing I could do was stare off and forget about the place I was in; it helped for a while before people started looking at me as if I were crazy. When I came back to the real world I still couldn’t believe I’d left all my friends behind and now was stuck in this tiny school. I would try to join the conversation or be friendly but it was like trying to talk to someone who didn’t speak the same language. Finally lunch would end and back to class I’d go with my cold sweaty hands.
Almost every day I would cry for hours after school. My mom kept telling me it would get better and my sister said it couldn’t be that bad, but for me it was like the end of the world. From then on my mom started babying me again. Any time I just couldn’t stand being at school anymore I’d call my mom and tell her I didn’t feel good. I started missing a lot of school, which led me to fall behind on my work and my grades. My mom became overwhelmed one day when I called her to pick me up, she was not in a good mood and neither was I.
We started arguing on the way home and by the time we got home my head was pounding in frustration. “Why don’t you just drop out?” Her words kept playing over and over in my head like an annoying dog barking at the mailman. I couldn’t believe she wanted me to just give up. I then decided I would be a big girl and suck it up; everyone has to do things they don’t like in their lives. I started working harder for those grades I promised my parents and ignoring the fact that I didn’t have my friends with me. I needed to show my mom that I was not a person that gave up when times got rough.
Then my junior year came prancing along. I had let go of the past and accustomed to my school. I still disliked the place, but my grades were good and that’s all that really mattered to me. I had a few friends witch made it a lot easier, and I was still hanging out with my old friends which made it that much better. I was still planning to move out of the school though as soon as I could, until one day the skies cleared up and sun came out. I walked out of my counselor’s office with a huge permanent smile on my face. I felt like screaming and running around laughing and jumping like they did in the movies. My counselor had given me the great news that I had been accepted to two college classes and I had received a scholarship. Chills ran up and down my back, I didn’t know what to say, but all I could think about was my parents and how proud they were going to be when they heard the news. Then and there at that same moment I realized that my parents hadn’t moved me to this school to make my life miserable, they moved me to this school so I could be the intelligent girl they knew I was.
I was proud of myself, and now I would be proud of being the first graduating class of York International.