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One School Morning
“Time to go to school!” exclaimed Mum, shouting from downstairs. It was my first day of middle school. Nervous didn’t even describe how I felt. Terrified more like. I rushed into my ferociously ugly uniform, a purple and red blazer, red and orange checked skirt, and an orange and red tie. I looked like I had just walked into a rainbow. And not a cute, pastel rainbow. A loud, mismatching one. I ran down the stairs, and I felt that I was faster than Usain Bolt. So fast I crashed into Jamie, receiving a “Why are you soooo annoying?” from him. He’s never really liked me much. Anyway, I walked into the kitchen, panting for breath. When I calmed down, I noticed the smell of delicious goodness being made by Mum. Yes, PANCAKES! I wolfed them down in ten seconds flat, and cleared my plate away. The night before, I had PLANNED, to be organised. So I had packed my new Victoria’s Secret PINK bag, and put my PINK water bottle out next to it. Unfortunately, my journey turned out not to be as simple as I thought it would be. Firstly, my Mum handed me map. I dreaded looking at it. It included three buses, two trains and thirty long minutes of walking. I had left the house way too late!
                        I missed my first bus, the two hundred and twenty seven, and I had to wait twenty minutes for the next one! I glanced at my watch. School started at eight thirty, and it was already eight o’clock! This meant that I was going to miss my next bus to Langley, which meant that I was going to miss my next bus to get me to Chesham station! The bus STILL hadn’t arrived after twenty minutes, so I just decided to walk the two miles to my next bus. Actually, walk is understatement. I decided to RUN to my next bus stop. You know what? STILL an understatement. I SPRINTED to my next bus stop. Yes, that is better. Anyway, I got to the bus stop, waited what felt like ages for my next bus, then the same for my next bus. I finally got to my the train station at eight twenty-five, and got on my first Amersham train, and then my Chalfont train. When I got out of the station it was almost nine o’clock, and I seriously considered not bothering to go to school.
               As I was running down the highway to school, I tripped in a puddle full of mud, getting my uniform completely soaked through, and caked in mud. I probably looked like a right mess at this point. Driving and dirty, I showed up at school at an atrocious nine forty-five,which got the headteacher calling my mum on the first day, and walked into the classroom wearing an  oversized spare sports kit, in orange and purple, my hair wet, and my face with streaks of mud all over it. People literally stared at me. Talk about a first impression!