Student Work :) 3/17/15

Here I am.

My lips parched.

My throat dry.

My heart pounding.

My legs as tired as ever.

I feel a gust of cool wind rub against my cheeks.

I see different colored shoes right behind me.

I hear our gym teacher, Mrs. Rodino shouting, “Guys, you can do it! Only a few more laps!”

I also hear the rhythm of my shoes hitting the concrete one after the other.

Even though the mile run is tiring, I enjoy it for a lot of reasons: the fun of running in the wind as the sun shines over your hair. The refreshing gulps of water you take. The sigh of relief as you reach the finish line. The feeling of victory, satisfaction, accomplishment spreading inside you.


5 more steps till I reach the finish line. My eyes burn from the never ending wind.

4 more steps till I reach the finish line. My hair flies all over the place.

3 more steps till I reach the finish line. I hear people drinking water nonstop.

2 more steps till I reach the finish line. My gym shoes are almost falling off.

1 more step till I reach the finish line. I leap and land on the wet, watery grass.

Gasping for air, I acknowledge that I finished 3rd place. It really didn’t matter. As long as I enjoyed it.

I had ran the “Fun Run”.


I never ever wanted to go to Mexico. It wasn’t THAT good in the brochure. But things changed on the way to Mexico. My dad lightened my mood by letting me playing video games on the DS. My mom cheered me up by giving me lots of Ritz crackers. I was so glad when I got there. I got drinks, food, and more special treatment, even at the POOL. When we got to our hotel, the room was spectacular. Chocolates and other candies lay on the cabinet. The bed was made perfectly, like the ones on TV commercials. That was on of my best vacations of all time(except Hawaii).


The nurse motions for me to sit down. I eye the scary machine in the corner as she asks, “Patankar, right? Not the other one?” I nod and sit by the telescope, remembering when I stared into this 2 years ago. Vividly. And at that time, I didn’t need glasses. I wouldn’t this time, too. I fill with confidence as she says,”Describe which way the capital E is turned.” I look into the machine, my eye up close. She recites the letters next to the E’s. But as I tell her the direction, my stomach’s knots were getting tighter, and my face was growing pale pink.

The E’s were getting smaller.

Way smaller.

Box-looking, not E looking.

I couldn’t SEE the last one. I knew it was a problem.
As I got up, she handed me a cream colored envelope.

Trouble. I walked up the stairs with my group, and hid the envelope in my desk. I wasn’t brave enough to open it. Guess I’ll have to see it with Mom and Dad.

To be continued.


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