I took a deep breath because I wanted to be anywhere but here the bell rang, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The first day of my nightmare was thought to be over, but I soon realized that it had only just begun. My alarm clock read 6:50, and the glare of daylight cracked my eyelids like someone opening a can. The snow hit my window like daggers. I got out of bed and thought "this isn't just a nightmare, and it's definitely not Texas." I checked the alarm once again which read 7:10. I started running to prepare for my first day at Portland High School. Struggling to get ready for the next 20 minutes felt like an eternity, I stepped outside and the cold air rushed into the sky sending shivers through my body. The air smelled like crisp winter, the car was so cold with the black exterior wrapped in white snow and the beige suede seats frozen to the touch. Driving along the eastern walk was like being in a winter postcard, leafless trees covered in snow and the ground looked like a long soft pillow of pure white. It felt like the longest trip of my 17 years of life. The school seemed bigger on the inside than on the outside. It looked old and dilapidated, as I walked through the corridors eyes shot in my direction like poisonous darts. I guess everyone could tell the new girl had arrived. The hallways were complicated and the day was slow as a snail. Everyone's eyes were still glued to my face, but it didn't scare me because I walked through the school as if it were my own. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay The classroom felt like a deep, dark abyss with cold, disturbing eyes that stared as a predator stares at its prey. The teacher welcomed me with open arms and a healthy smile that made the deep abyss seem like a peaceful sanctuary. The kids were sweet and welcoming something I wasn't used to in Texas was different, and this change was definitely different. A girl approached me as I analyzed her, she captivated me, she was wearing the most beautiful brown hijab, her complexion as smooth and brown as a Hershey kiss, and eyes like pools of honey with a bright smile. You never truly realize how beautiful someone's smile is until they are the first person to talk to you at a new school. The mysterious girl spoke as if she knew me, which made me feel a bit of skepticism, but also a sigh of relief. He never said his name to me, but his face is extremely memorable. We were in such a deep conversation that I didn't even notice the doorbell had rung. The rest of the day seemed drawn out, and later, the children looked like zombies tumbling through the lifeless hallways and silent classrooms. The next lesson hit me like a thunderous truck. The students were tremendously loud and obnoxious. The teacher seemed tone deaf and not at all interested in the class, but more interested in telling the class's stories. The more he told his stories, the further I became from reality. I excluded everything from students piercing their ears to the teacher telling stories. The classroom had a grotesque smell, like must, and a damp rain that made the hairs on my nose tickle with displeasure. The lesson went on forever every second and each minute seemed longer than the last. Voices that overlap making every conversation go from a whisper to a roar. The only thing keeping me sane was my music, which was now more therapeutic than it had ever been before. Finally.