To the fullest

Essay by loveangela9University, Bachelor'sA, September 2014

download word file, 4 pages 0.0

To the fullest

When I was in junior high school, we used to have annual composition contests. Every year, the whole students go out of the school to the perfect place for writing on the perfect shiny spring day. It was one of my eighth grade day. I and my close friends were busy getting ready for the writing contest, since it was more like a picnic rather than a competitive tournament. Students were excited about not wearing their school uniforms on the day with all hands full of snacks. They were also loud telling what they packed for their lunch. Even all the teachers who used to be very strict to us seemed really happy to see each other outside. They became one of our best friends instead of scary teachers. The Sun was high up, the spring breeze was passing by chicks, and we were sitting on the deep green grass by a beautiful huge lake.

Everything was perfect.

After some announcements made by the principal, the homeroom teachers handed out pieces of paper to each student who was only obsessed with the best place to unpack their belongings to sit around, chat and spend the rest of the day. All students were sitting around the lake, and I could see this beautiful and peaceful moment beyond the shining lake. It seemed that there were only few who were actually interested in writing. I myself was not much of a difference. We made a big group exploring the every part of the park and when we found some good places to rest, we did so. We chased some squirrels and rabbits, bought some ice creams at the store, and took tons of pictures with brand-new digital cameras.

About a half of the time passed, I was bored...