Personal Narrative: My Eleventh Year In High School

Walking into my honors English class my eleventh grade year, I felt as if it would be a breeze. Thinking back to the previous year to when I constantly maintained an “A+” and without hesitation I knew that any test, quiz, or writing prompt I was destined for an “A.” It was until now sobbing in a big puddle of salty water I knew for a fact I was doomed. Although I had never really thought into what karma was and what it really meant. It was my eleventh grade year in high school it had finally caught up to me. During my tenth grade year my English class always flowed smoothly. As a class we were never really required to do much more than babysit ourselves. There were countless days we sat in class and did simple worksheets on the book Night by Elie Wiesel which I had read in the eighth grade. Not realizing this was an English class it felt like kindergarten all over again. I had even considered it to be the best class period through my first two years of high school. It was chill, easy, and, comfortable. That comfortableness had not only crippled me but was what played a key part in my eleventh grade misery. That’s when it had all started.
Everything wasn’t going to be like it used to be! After the few short lessons we did have on punctuation and grammar thereafter my true insufficiency was put to the test. We had been assigned to write an essay on what we thought “begin with the end in mind” meant. Just as I had the same confidence in turning in papers in my tenth grade English class was what had followed me then, with the hopes of getting an “A” as