Hall+of+Fame

=Hall of Fame= //Here are some of the finest pieces of writing submitted all year, ranging from poetry to memoir to fiction, and anything in between.//

Class with the Beasts Jackie Maurer As I walked into the classroom, I could feel the stares of the almighty powerful species we called sixth graders, drilling holes into my small and helpless fifth grader skull.  I shuffled across the cold tile floor and the stiff, bland-colored carpet, unaware of how fast I was actually moving, while the rest of the world whooshed around me. I stepped quietly up to the teacher’s desk, where she was busy looking through stacks of papers. She looked up a few moments later, a bit startled, with a, “Yes?” “I… I… I think I’m supposed to be in this class,” was my questioning, timid response. “Well then, I guess you are,” she answered promptly with a bold and satisfactory sound in her voice that mine completely lacked. “Wa… wa… where should I sit?” She waved her finger smoothly in the direction of an abandoned desk. I took my seat and tried my best to pay attention while everything about the class felt uncomfortable and billions of thoughts were racing through my mind. Her marker tapped across the board, spitting out numbers and math terms. “Who’s that weirdo?” “Oh, that’s the new smart girl.” “Wow, what a nerd for skipping a freakin’ grade!” “Geez, why does she gotta be in this class?” These were the whispers I heard tiny bits and pieces of, imagining the rest of the horrible things I worried all the sixth grade upperclassmen could be saying about me. I closed my eyes for a quick second, attempting to gain my composure and reduce my embarrassed face from a deep crimson red to at least a rosy pink. When I opened them again, I diverted my eyes straight to the white board, keeping them from glancing around at the unfamiliar faces. It was like telling yourself not to look down when your afraid of heights, except my fear was surrounding me, and I was enclosed in the bitter chilling prison called a classroom. I listened to the slow ticking of the clock as seconds dragged on and slowly morphed to minutes. Even though this empty, boring way of learning held none of my interest, every inch of my mind begged and pleaded for no interactive or partner work. For one, my brain was clearly not in a good enough state to comprehend anything due to my shock. Secondly, I was beginning to feel a twinge of self-pity as I realized, “What sixth grader in their right mind would want to be my partner?” Suddenly, I heard the dings of books being pushed around in desks and clicks of closing binders as I discovered class had come to an end. I silently let out a shaky sigh as I gathered my books and tried to cover myself in an invisible cloak, keeping my face angled downward to avoid any unnecessary confrontations. “Phew!” I thought to myself. “One day down, a lot more to go.” But even with my pressure and anxiety, I could feel a slightly brighter path along the horizon. And although my usually pessimistic mind argued, I couldn’t help but believe that things would be better and everything would work out for the best.