I took a deep breath as I wish I was somewhere, but here the bell rang and I breathed a sigh of relief. We thought the first day of my nightmare was over, but I quickly realized it was just beginning. My alarm read 6:50 a.m., the glare of daylight tearing at my eyelids like someone opening a can. The snow hit my window like daggers. I got out of bed and said to myself, “This isn’t just a nightmare, and this definitely isn’t Texas.” I checked my alarm once again and it said 7:10. I started rushing to get ready for my first day at Portland High School. Struggling to prepare for the next 20 minutes seemed like an eternity. I stepped outside and the cold air rushed into the sky, sending shivers through my body. The air smelled like cold winter, the car was so cold that its black exterior was engulfed in white snow and its beige suede seats were frozen to the touch. Driving on the East Parkway 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 drive of my 17 years of life. The school seemed bigger inside than outside. It seemed old and run down, as I walked through the halls, eyes shooting in my direction like venomous darts. I guess everyone could tell the new girl had arrived. The corridors were complicated and the day was as slow as a snail. Everyone's eyes were still on my face, but that didn't bother me as I walked through the school like I owned it. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get the original essay The classroom looked like a deep, dark abyss with cold, frightening eyes staring like a predator staring at prey. The professor welcomed me with open arms and a wholesome smile that made the deep chasm a calm sanctuary. The kids were nice, and welcoming something I was far from accustomed to in Texas was different, and this change was definitely different. A girl came up to me while I was analyzing her, she fascinated me, she was wearing the most beautiful brown hijab, her complexion smooth and brown like a Hershey's kiss, and her eyes like pools of honey with a smile brilliant. You never really realize how beautiful someone's smile is until they're 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 little skepticism, but also a sigh of relief. She never said her name to me, but her face is extremely memorable. We were in such deep conversation that I didn't even notice the bell had rung. The rest of the day seemed drawn out and, quietly, the children looked like zombies cascading through the lifeless hallways and silent classrooms. This next class hit me like a thundering truck. The students were extremely loud and obnoxious. The teacher seemed out of tune and not at all concerned with the class, but rather with telling stories to the class. The more she told her stories, the further I got from reality. I excluded everything from the ear-piercing students to the teacher telling stories. The course had a grotesque smell of must and wet rain that tickled the hairs on my nose with displeasure. The class went on forever with every second, and each minute seemed longer than the last. The voices.