Anne Tam
3rd hour
February 21, 2010
A Feeling Never Forgotten
Looking through the cold, hard glass, Mei-Li watched the girl in the sparkley pink leotard finish her routine on the ice and take a bow. As the girl exited the rink, Mei-Li felt a cold chill run through her body, for now it was her turn to take the spotlight on the ice. Her heart pounded with adrenaline and excitement as she saw all the people in the bleachers waiting and ready for the next performer. Taking a deep breath, she bent down, and removed her baby blue blade guards as she heard the announcer boom her name over the loudspeakers. Whispering a small prayer of good luck to herself, Mei-Li pushed open the door that led to the rink and stepped out onto the smooth ice.
As her blades touched the clean, white ice, Mei-Li instantly felt the soft tingle she had always gotten when she performed. She loved the way the cold air penetrated through her skin and left her bones with a nice, chilling effect. The way her blades sliced through the top layer of the ice told her that she was in control while in the rink. Nearing the center of the rink, Mei-Li slowed down and got into her starting position. A soft, slow song started playing on the loudspeakers, and as if entranced, Mei-Li started skating to the soft beat of the music.
Little chunks of ice flew around her as she twirled and spun like a graceful ballerina, her long, black ponytail whipping around her head. Jumps and leaps were landed perfectly, the ice not seeming at all like just a sheet of frozen water. When the end of the song neared, Mei-Li performed her finale; a triple salchow and a triple loop. As her thin blades landed perfectly on the ice, the crowd exploded with cheering and clapping. Though out of breath, Mei-Li grinned with all her heart. For her, her performances were everything, even all the minute details that some people failed to notice. The way the ice looked after the zamboni finished paving the ice and before a performance, the calming coolness in the air of the ice rink, and the soft scraping of her metal blade against the smooth ice were all things that meant a lot to her.
Still grinning from ear-to-ear, Mei-Li skated swiftly over to the door that led to the edge of the ice rink; the crowd’s cheering still ringing in her ears. As she stepped off the ice, she took one last look at the center of the ice and smiled. She could still see the circles that she had scraped into the ice during her spins and twirls, and the ice chunks that had been uprooted by her blades. I’ll never forget this moment for as long as I live. Mei-Li thought happily as she pushed the door to the dressing room open.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
memory
Anne Tam
Mrs. W. Gortney
Creative Writing – 3rd hour
7 February 1010
Escaping the Trouble
It was a nice summer day in the fifth grade, the birds chirping, the sun shining; everything was great. All except… report cards were due that day, and I had forgotten mine yet again. In elementary school, we all had to get our report cards signed within a week, or no credit would be received. The first couple days I had forgotten to get it signed, and I always mentally reminded myself to get it signed that night, but for a week straight I had forgotten to get that signature and the due date had finally approached.
I wriggled back and forth uncomfortably in my seat as the teacher announced that she would be coming around to check in report cards. I could feel my heart racing and my palms sweating as I waited for the dreaded moment of my teacher arriving at my table to check in my signature, and me telling her I had forgotten even after she gave us a week. As I watched the other students around me pulling their report cards out of their backpacks, I suddenly had an idea. Reaching into my backpack and then into my pencil case, I quickly pulled out a black ballpoint pen. Jamming the pen into my pocket, I also found my report card, folded it in half, and stuck it under my shirt. I jumped up from my seat and ran over to the teacher. “Miss Lacey, may I go to the bathroom?” I asked, politely. My teacher nodded, and I took off.
I ran into the bathroom, taking notice that no one was there. Letting out a sigh of relief, I quickly walked into one of the stalls. My heart was pounding with adrenaline and excitement as I pulled the report card out from under my shirt and the pen from my pocket. I pressed the report card up against the cold side wall of the stall, lifted my pen, and before I could think about what I was doing, I quickly scribbled my mom’s signature above the “Parent/Guardian Signature” line. As I finished the last mark on my mother’s signature, I put the pen back into my pocket and took a step back to admire my work. Not bad. I told myself as a smile crept onto my face. To pretend that I had actually used the toilet, I flushed before shoving the report card back under my shirt and leaving the bathroom.
Making my way back into the classroom, I scanned the classroom for my teacher’s whereabouts. As I spotted her a couple feet away from where my desk sat, I briskly walked over to my desk and sat down. Looking around, I made sure that no one was watching before quickly pulling out the report card out from under my shirt. Unfolding it, I placed it on my desk, sat back in my chair and relaxed as I waited for the teacher to reach me. A couple minutes later, the teacher was standing in front of me checking in my report card. I held my breath as I watched the teacher’s eyes scan over the signature, every second seeming like an hour. I’m going to get caught. I thought silently to myself, as fear started to rise within me. However, the teacher just smiled, said “Good. Thank you.”, and walked on to the next desk.
I sat still for a couple seconds, as if not fully comprehending that I had gotten away with forging my mother’s signature. As the fear within me started to mitigate, I felt another smile creep onto my face. Putting my head down, I laughed silently, still not believing I had gotten away with such a thing.
Mrs. W. Gortney
Creative Writing – 3rd hour
7 February 1010
Escaping the Trouble
It was a nice summer day in the fifth grade, the birds chirping, the sun shining; everything was great. All except… report cards were due that day, and I had forgotten mine yet again. In elementary school, we all had to get our report cards signed within a week, or no credit would be received. The first couple days I had forgotten to get it signed, and I always mentally reminded myself to get it signed that night, but for a week straight I had forgotten to get that signature and the due date had finally approached.
I wriggled back and forth uncomfortably in my seat as the teacher announced that she would be coming around to check in report cards. I could feel my heart racing and my palms sweating as I waited for the dreaded moment of my teacher arriving at my table to check in my signature, and me telling her I had forgotten even after she gave us a week. As I watched the other students around me pulling their report cards out of their backpacks, I suddenly had an idea. Reaching into my backpack and then into my pencil case, I quickly pulled out a black ballpoint pen. Jamming the pen into my pocket, I also found my report card, folded it in half, and stuck it under my shirt. I jumped up from my seat and ran over to the teacher. “Miss Lacey, may I go to the bathroom?” I asked, politely. My teacher nodded, and I took off.
I ran into the bathroom, taking notice that no one was there. Letting out a sigh of relief, I quickly walked into one of the stalls. My heart was pounding with adrenaline and excitement as I pulled the report card out from under my shirt and the pen from my pocket. I pressed the report card up against the cold side wall of the stall, lifted my pen, and before I could think about what I was doing, I quickly scribbled my mom’s signature above the “Parent/Guardian Signature” line. As I finished the last mark on my mother’s signature, I put the pen back into my pocket and took a step back to admire my work. Not bad. I told myself as a smile crept onto my face. To pretend that I had actually used the toilet, I flushed before shoving the report card back under my shirt and leaving the bathroom.
Making my way back into the classroom, I scanned the classroom for my teacher’s whereabouts. As I spotted her a couple feet away from where my desk sat, I briskly walked over to my desk and sat down. Looking around, I made sure that no one was watching before quickly pulling out the report card out from under my shirt. Unfolding it, I placed it on my desk, sat back in my chair and relaxed as I waited for the teacher to reach me. A couple minutes later, the teacher was standing in front of me checking in my report card. I held my breath as I watched the teacher’s eyes scan over the signature, every second seeming like an hour. I’m going to get caught. I thought silently to myself, as fear started to rise within me. However, the teacher just smiled, said “Good. Thank you.”, and walked on to the next desk.
I sat still for a couple seconds, as if not fully comprehending that I had gotten away with forging my mother’s signature. As the fear within me started to mitigate, I felt another smile creep onto my face. Putting my head down, I laughed silently, still not believing I had gotten away with such a thing.
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