Cdub D.C. Club

Twenty four hours ago, I was getting frustrated in the shower because I couldn't shave a certain spot on my leg. Today, I feel like time is not moving and I have been awake since seven in the morning. The morning after graduation is slow and unmoving. My hair is still curled and brows still done. It is so odd that yesterday, the door to the world was open and through it I heard the loudness, saw the busyness, and felt the overwhelming feeling of hope. Today that same day is shut and locked, my clock is broken, and the silence is louder than the noise from yesterday. It is a jarring feeling compared to yesterday's festivities, making me feel lost of all that hope. Every year, I have always expected to go to school, and know exactly what classes I'd be taking, who I would see. Now I have none of that sense of security. Yes, I know what school I'm going to, what I plan on studying, but that means nothing. For thirteen years the government has ensured I am educated and teac

My first half of the day is spent testing for AP English Language. I'm excited, I know this material, I've been studying it for two years now. I hesitate to write my essays but putting my pen to paper, I don't stop for forty minutes. I do the first, the next, then the last. The day started grey and cloudy, making this test a bit of a drag, but when I am done and dismissed, I open a door to open skies and sunny air. It's my last day of high school. I have waited for this moment for countless days, begging and crying for it to come sooner, yet it always felt like the days were dragging on. But today, I feel a warmth and nostalgia, knowing this is the last time I may ever walk these halls, and those dragging days I complained about have faded to feeling like yesterday. In desperate need to retrieve my flask I left in the testing room, I go to my vice principal who was more involved in my freshman year. My bad year. As he walks me to the room to unlock and retrieve it, I th