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The Open Evening
Until the 29th of July, 2008 I found it hard to believe I might be going to College. Now, mum and I were attending the open evening for perspective year 9’s wanting to continue their education there. At approximately 7:00 mum and I entered the college hall and stood there. Stunned. The room was spacious but bare, with only a few large banners suspended from the ceiling. I could imagine it bustling with people, like a scene from Hogwarts. As the last people filtered in to the hall and sat down on the seats, way comfier that the Intermediate ones, I scanned the room for familiar faces. My heart soared as I saw a few and hurried over to Erin and Bethany. We had just had time to say hello before the Principal stood and began on a speech you’d expect from a history teacher. Various mothers came up and spoke about how good the school was, but I was still getting my head around the fact the whole college experience was now reality. Finally, I had managed to gather from the sudden loud chatter, that it was time to move. Letting myself be swept into the wave of oncoming people, I spotted mum and she hurried towards me. People dispersed into groups led by College kids and started migrating around the school. Moving of our own accord by this time, Mum, Erin, Bethany and I followed our guide like ducklings, all in a row. Mum was searching, possum eyed for signs of the school she had attended years ago. I gathered from her expression that most had either been demolished, or modernised and not much remained. As we went from room to room, stopping frequently due to traffic jams, I was reminded of the sensation I had experienced when I applied for Rosehill Intermediate. Intense, and utter dread. When I told mum this, she smiled reassuringly, “Loren, we haven’t met a single person who hasn’t told you you will love it, stop being a stress puppy” I smiled, my mood lifting ever so slightly. There was nothing so scary or different about the classes, I had been expecting electric chairs canes and torture chambers hidden behind the book cases so I was extremely disappointed. The Art room was my favourite. It was cramped, very much so, but cosy. Each wall was festooned with art works that were good enough to be have been done by Picasso himself and they made the whole room glow. The teacher, a happy lady who strongly reflected the atmosphere of the room, led us down a small flight of stairs to the photography room. Fumbling in the darkness, I remember asking myself how the photographers had enough light to achieve anything in the gloom. The sun seemed to have disappeared hours ago, along with my enthusiasm for the whole moving from class to class thing. You can have too much of a good thing. I was relieved when mum, mirroring my thoughts suggested we abandon the expedition. After stepping nimbly out of the queue, we made our way across the gum covered courts. A light pattering of rain made a group of nearby students scurry for cover. Picking up our pace, we dove into the safety of our car, reaching it seconds before the heavens opened and the real downpour started. Heaters blasting, we had already buckled up and raced away into the night. My brain was already whirring. I remember it being as if 1000 fans had all been turned on at once. Rosehill college was like a new world, discovered but not yet explored. If I didn’t get into Rosehill, I thought, would I have to restart the adventure?
effjayy added this comment 2008-09-22 04:02:28-05:00
Lol.!! When did you write this.?????
effjayy added this comment 2008-09-22 04:02:28-05:00
Lol.!! When did you write this.?????