The clock is ticking softly and slowly, no need to worry. I have plenty of time ahead of me.
I enter my elementary classroom, completing the same routine daily, as I unknowingly watch the seasons change and time float out the window.
Four seasons: winter, spring, summer, and fall; the 12 months flying by quicker than all.
After elementary comes middle school, where friendships grow and fall like the leaves on the slowly dying trees.
In the sixth month of two thousand twenty-three, 76 teenagers received diplomas essentially stating, “Congratulations! You made it through the easiest parts, but things will just get harder from here. Good luck!”
The first day of high school was when anxiety and enjoyment simultaneously filled minds and classrooms. What am I supposed to feel?
Freshman year, now sophomore year, just turning 16. Years I always thought were never nearby.
Soon 2027 will come, and 76-plus students will graduate and receive their diplomas: the piece of paper shipping us all out into the real world where our futures will begin.
The clock ticks a little louder, and maybe faster too now, as I’m still staring at it, and I’m finally realizing I’m slowly running out of time.
