High School Ain't So Sweet, Now, Isn't It?
Me? Sing Great?
I'm glad the first day is over. It was filled with diqgusting cafeteria food, sweaty boys in oversized jackets and stereotypes. I will have trouble fitting in, and I expect something like getting beat down by a ridiculous jock.
It's not that I am expecting the second day to be better, but I hope that it gets a little less rough around the edges. It it goes like hell all year, I'd die.
I sat on the same chair that I sat on. The sunshine was enjoyable, perfect for the music I'm listening to. I don't know, but I just like the combination of My Chemical Romance and bright sunshine.
Mr. Heethes entered the room, wearing almost the same clothes but his shirt was a nice, creamy yellow. The papers weren't there anymore, and instead, a red, leather-bound book thudded on his wooden desk. I lowered my iPod's volume, scared that the teacher would do something crazy, like call my parents and tell them that I flushed a cat in the toilet or something similar.
"Class, it may seem very fast, but this day, we will study the history of other countries and what connection they have with American history."
He opened the book on page 8 (it seems like it, anyway), and started talking about the World War and America colonizing countries and different other things I could have just ignored.
Then, the iPod played my favorite song: Vulnerable by Secondhand Serenade. I started to hum, then I sang along softly. Later on, I didn't notice that the whole class stared at me. I was alone yet again at my little world, where music was king.
When I looked around nervously, everyone had their mouths open, and Mr. Heethes was smiling, although it was beyond me if the smile was something good or bad or something like I killed his pet cat and he wanted me to pay him. Instinctively, I removed the earphones. The room was so silent that I could hear the other teacher from other classrooms giving lectures to their own homerooms.
"Mr. Zachary Taylor."
I nervously stood up, while the class watched. I looked around and spotted Sam, at the opposite end of the room, a smug grin on her face. Was that supposed to mean something or what?
"Mr. Taylor, I congratulate you."
I began to speak.
"For... For what, sir?"
For a minute, I thought he was congratulating me for earning a demerit, detention or something like that.
"You have a beautiful singing voice." He said.
I what?
"Pardon me, sir?" I wanted to hear what he really had to say. Or is he really saying the truth?
"I said, Mr. Taylor, that you have a beautiful singing voice. You could be an asset to our music club here."
Did I REALLY sing good? I didn't know. Nobody ever told me, and I thought I was always out of tune or something. I didn't sing because I was good. I just sung along because I wanted to. I love music, and I definitely will sing if I really like the song. Now, I sung publicly, a feat I have NEVER done before.
The class clapped. They clapped so loud, it attracted the attention of a teacher passing by.
"Excuse me for disturbing the class, but what is happening?"
A man said, and he entered the classroom. He never introduced himself.
But I knew the guy anyway, thanks to Mr. Heethes.
"Mr. Johnson, I have found a potential member to join your music class."
He was obviously talking about me.
I wanted to be a rockstar, ever since I was young... But how could this help?
It's not that I am expecting the second day to be better, but I hope that it gets a little less rough around the edges. It it goes like hell all year, I'd die.
I sat on the same chair that I sat on. The sunshine was enjoyable, perfect for the music I'm listening to. I don't know, but I just like the combination of My Chemical Romance and bright sunshine.
Mr. Heethes entered the room, wearing almost the same clothes but his shirt was a nice, creamy yellow. The papers weren't there anymore, and instead, a red, leather-bound book thudded on his wooden desk. I lowered my iPod's volume, scared that the teacher would do something crazy, like call my parents and tell them that I flushed a cat in the toilet or something similar.
"Class, it may seem very fast, but this day, we will study the history of other countries and what connection they have with American history."
He opened the book on page 8 (it seems like it, anyway), and started talking about the World War and America colonizing countries and different other things I could have just ignored.
Then, the iPod played my favorite song: Vulnerable by Secondhand Serenade. I started to hum, then I sang along softly. Later on, I didn't notice that the whole class stared at me. I was alone yet again at my little world, where music was king.
When I looked around nervously, everyone had their mouths open, and Mr. Heethes was smiling, although it was beyond me if the smile was something good or bad or something like I killed his pet cat and he wanted me to pay him. Instinctively, I removed the earphones. The room was so silent that I could hear the other teacher from other classrooms giving lectures to their own homerooms.
"Mr. Zachary Taylor."
I nervously stood up, while the class watched. I looked around and spotted Sam, at the opposite end of the room, a smug grin on her face. Was that supposed to mean something or what?
"Mr. Taylor, I congratulate you."
I began to speak.
"For... For what, sir?"
For a minute, I thought he was congratulating me for earning a demerit, detention or something like that.
"You have a beautiful singing voice." He said.
I what?
"Pardon me, sir?" I wanted to hear what he really had to say. Or is he really saying the truth?
"I said, Mr. Taylor, that you have a beautiful singing voice. You could be an asset to our music club here."
Did I REALLY sing good? I didn't know. Nobody ever told me, and I thought I was always out of tune or something. I didn't sing because I was good. I just sung along because I wanted to. I love music, and I definitely will sing if I really like the song. Now, I sung publicly, a feat I have NEVER done before.
The class clapped. They clapped so loud, it attracted the attention of a teacher passing by.
"Excuse me for disturbing the class, but what is happening?"
A man said, and he entered the classroom. He never introduced himself.
But I knew the guy anyway, thanks to Mr. Heethes.
"Mr. Johnson, I have found a potential member to join your music class."
He was obviously talking about me.
I wanted to be a rockstar, ever since I was young... But how could this help?