Days Like This

Lucy Small

I still get a small jerk in the pit of my stomach which I look back on that day with fond memories. The day I started primary school was the day I truly entered into my more individual grown up world. Terror erupted from every part of my brain as I clung furiously to my mother, who eventually released herself from my grip. I looked up at the taller people and felt a rush of excitement; "in a few years I'll be that big and then I can play with them." Happiness, the kind only an innocent child can feel swept over me as I slowly entered into the school doors. My eyes darting everywhere, not wanting to miss a detail, I treasured every thing from the green slightly peeling wallpaper to the happy teachers faces; everything enthralled me.

All of us -there must have been about eighty excited nervous children - gathered together and a register was called. We were then sent to our associated class. We were then sent to our allocated class, I could feel a thousand eyes burning me with their stares but I did not care. Finally after what felt like a breathless eternity we took our seats and looked around nervously at each other, surveying the faces etched with fear and doubt that comes with the unknown. As I looked round my heart leapt as I spotted about ten familiar faces, a few boys and some happy faced girls. We were all asked to pray, so we prayed all in monotone voices, only half knowing and understanding the words. We then began going round the room saying our names, I still remember my best friends names; Annie, Victoria, Harriet and Jamie, the rest of the names have been lost in the memories of that day.

Our teacher; Mrs Smith, was glamorous in every sense of the word, she was blonde, tall and smelt of sweet perfume. But sadly even from day one Mrs Smith and I never really got on well. She began our first lesson with simple spelling; my heart plummeted as I heard that. As I am dyslexic spelling was never one of my strong points, so after a few sniggers and laughs at my appalling spelling of the word 'cat', we were released into the dazzling sunlight of the playground.

I have some of my fondest memories in the playground of St Mary's Primary and some of my saddest, so my first day there was always going to be eventful. I loved it - I was asked to play games, run around and just generally make a lot of noise. None of us were happy when the bell rang and we were rushed inside. Luckily we were in for a fun filled afternoon of arguing, singing and getting to know each other, a few simple things that made that day memorable. The bell rang and as though I was being pulled in by a strong current, I was swept into a new room; the lunch hall. It seemed a huge room, filled with exciting smells, happy excited faces and friends chatting.

After a hurried lunch, I joyfully ran out into the dazzling sunshine of the playground. It felt as if it had not been so much a day but a lifetime. I thought to myself, if this is school then it's really not that bad. Then just as quickly as it had started, like summer it had faded away and I was once again rushing back into my mother's arms. She asked me simply how my day was and I smiled back at her and said 'it was memorable.'