When I Was Young, and Life Was Perfect

I woke up happy, sad, nervous, scared, and early. It was the first day of Park Avenue, an elementary school across the field belonging to Port Chester High School. I had gone to Holy Rosary for five years of my life, and had all the friends in the world. Then I transferred to a school in the middle of town for three months and was starting to make new friends when they told my family and me I would have to transfer to Park Avenue because J.F.K. Magnet was full.

As I waited for three weeks for the paperwork to get straighten out, I thought to myself, "What if I make no friends? What if the teacher hates me? What if they tell me to leave and I do not know where or how to get home?" I would only be able to go to the High School and look for my brother. But the High School was so big. I continued to wonder, "What if I got lost? It would be days before anyone would find me." As I laid in bed wondering these questions, I began to cry. My brother walked over to me and he said it was going to be alright. I told about all the things I was thinking about. He looked at me and told me that if I was myself, everyone would enjoy me there and would be friendly. I believed him and went to bed.

I woke up the next morning, frantic. I was so used to putting on a uniform every Monday through Friday, that I really did not know how to pick out an outfit, or match because my mother always picked out my weekend clothes. As I was about to scream in despair, my father walked in my room with a tiny pile of clothes. He told me that my mother knew this would happen, so she picked out an outfit. With relief, I put on the clothes and picked up the book bag I packed and repacked everyday for three weeks. I got in the car with my father and brother. We dropped off my brother first. He reached in over the window and patted my head and said not to stress. I smiled at him and said thanks.

As we drove down the street towards Park Avenue, my stomach became filled with butterflies. My father parked in front of the school and walked me inside. We went into the office and after my father answered some questions, a woman from behind the desk told me to follow her. We went down the hall and up the stairs. I was freaked because in Holy Rosary only the big kids got to go upstairs, or if you went to the library. We knocked on the door where kids were hanging their jackets, coats, and filling their desk with the books they would need for the day. The woman whispered something to the lady behind the desk. She smiled and got up; she was pregnant; with her first child, I later found out. She walked over to me and told me her name was Jennifer Carrio-Dominguez, but I could call her Mrs. C-D. She pulled a desk next to hers. She said to put my stuff down and come to the front of the class. She was going to introduce me, but the announcements came on. They said the pledge, God Bless America, and sang the school song. I still remember it till this day. After