Descriptive Essay: Burden of Memories

Vannary Kom

September 15, 2011

Iron stream, B band


                      Descriptive Essay

                   Burden of Memories


When you transfer to a new school, you usually feel stuck up. I had experience this twice. The time I had transferred to a new Elementary school and when I had entered high school. It’s pretty hectic when you’re at a new school. Its like you have to experience and go through the steps all over again.


“Ring Ring Ring!”  The sound of the alarm clock had screeched in my ears. I woke up with a devastated mood to turn it off. There I went, reaching for the door knob sighing in disbelief, “First day of school...” I walked into the washroom and stared in the mirror for several minutes. One litre of tears. I was unable to hold back the silent tears. It dripped silently down one cheek. I suddenly said to myself, “It shouldn’t be that bad. I’ll get through this first day.” I wiped off my tears and got dressed. Forty minutes later,  I went downstairs to put on my shoes. My dad came down and asked if I was ready. My mind went completely blanked. Dark clouds fell over me and I could hear voices screaming in my head.  

“Hey! Are you ready to go to school?”  

He asked again. I jumped and had woken up from an unusual nightmare I had pictured. 

“Yes, I’m ready dad,” 

I said nervously as I got up. Here I go again, turning the door knob. I opened the door and stepped out as the door had closed behind me. One block away till I reached my destination to a new learning environment.

I had transferred to a new Elementary school, entering fourth grade. I remember clearly standing in front of the classroom full of unknown faces on the first day. A lady with thick body, blonde highlights, with glasses came and introduced herself. 

“Hi, I’m Mrs. Mesi and I will be your teacher for the year. Nice to meet you. Come in and introduce yourself to the class.”  

I stepped in the classroom and stood beside my new teacher.  I stood there biting onto my lips as she told the students to quiet down. The room became dead silent. Now, all eyes on me. I stood there panicking. My chest felt like it was caving in with extreme discomfort and pain. I felt like I was receiving death stares from each person. I tried to speak up, but words kept blocking my mouth. Here I go again, 

“Hi everyone...My name is Vannary.” 

There, I said it. The whole class became severely dead. I was drenched in drips of boiling sweats. My teacher then escorted me to my seat. I sat with two boys in my tables who think they were tough enough to fit in the “hood.” I felt as if my back were against the wall. Everyone in class burst into rowdy laughters and joked around. I was extremely quiet. Blood started rushing through my veins causing inside of me a great pain. I was in my own little corner getting caught up in my own day dreams. Several days, weeks, months, and years later, I had gotten used to the school system. I knew more faces than I ever did when I first came to this school. I opened up to people and had became close to them. I felt more accepted than ever. By eighth grade, I had a group of friends who I considered as my “Best Friends.” They were always there for me through thick and thin. 


By the end of eighth grade year, I had made a creative piece of art. I picked out this special hard cover piece of art that means a lot to me. There are colorful polka dots decorations on the front cover that reads, “Somewhere In Our Lifetimes” in rhinestone letters. Each pages inside consists full burden of memories. Flipping through  these pages each time brings back nostalgic memories. I always kept in a drawer, where no dust can ever land on the surface of this marvelous scrap book. This scrap book consists of black and white printed snapshots with written summaries. This symbolized the adventures my friends and I had explored and the memories we had captured. Every adventure we had, every snapshots we took. I did this to fill the pages with flashbacks of my friends and I and what we did in Elementary/Middle school. One of my favorite pictures would have to be a photo booth that was taken at the movie theater. There it was, five of us girls ganging up on each other to fit inside the minuscule seat at the photo booth section. One, two, three! SNAP! Capturing our foolish and horrendous faces as we tried so hard to stay in place and not burst into laughers. The pictures were something to look back at. Five of us, on a girls day out adventure. This piece of art work will engrave all the memories we created. 


As I stepped into this building on the very first day as a high school student, I felt as if was experiencing my life in Elementary school all over again. There were teachers, unfamiliar faces passing through the hallways, a different learning environment, in this new school of SLA. I felt as if my life was in crisis again. It was hard to move on from those awesome times I endured. It was burdensome when I had to approach these new faces at this new school. This reminds me of the Elementary school I had transferred to Elementary. I had to go through every single step I had already did all over again.  

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