With a shaky hand, she zipped up her new backpack, glancing nervously out the glass door.

“Mom, do I really have to go?” she called across the kitchen.

“Yes.”

The girl sighed audibly. She slung the pink backpack over her left shoulder and struggled to slip her right arm through the empty strap, and pulling her long blonde hair from under the backpack. She pulled too hard. Her hair slid back from her skull and hung upside down behind her.

“Mom, it came off again,” she hollered. Her mom rose from the table.

“What if this happens in school?” she asked in a panic, running her hand over her bald scalp. “I just can’t stand it, Mom. Please don’t make me go!” she begged.

“You’re going, Sara” her mom said, pulling the wig from her daughter’s backpack and straightening several twisted locks. Placing the wig on the girl’s head, she tightened the tie strings. “Just let me adjust it a little and it won’t slip off again.” She wiggled it back and forth to check, and it stayed put.

Her daughter turned, looking into her brown eyes.

“I can’t go. All the other girls are so pretty. They’ll all make fun of me if they find out!”

“Listen to me,” she put her hands on Sara’s shoulders. “I know you’re small for thirteen. I know you want to have your own hair back. I know you feel like the world’s coming down on you, but you can do this. You need to go to school-”

“But what if-”

“Hey, do I interrupt you?”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“If someone asks you a question, just be honest.” Sara looked doubtful. “I mean it, just be honest. You’ve been sick, it’s called leukemia, and you’re better now.”

Sara’s crystal blue eyes filled with worry. She looked out to the street again as if the passing cars would whisk her away from home, keeping her from facing her first day .

“Mom, it’s a new school. That’s bad enough, but why do I have to start before my hair is back?” her voice wavered. Her mom looked down at her with a stern expression.

“Your hair does not interfere with your ability to write a sentence or find the value of x in your math equations.”

Sara knew she’d lost. Her mother’s look left no room for debate.

“Fine,” she sighed loudly.

“You’ll be fine, Chickadee. Come here.” She pulled Sara into a hug, resting her chin on Sara’s head. “I love you. Now, the bus will be here any minute. Do you want me to wait with you?”

“No, Mom,” answered Sara, pulling away and opening the kitchen door. “I can walk to the end of the driveway alone. See you later.”

Sara walked to the end of the driveway, her blonde strands blowing slightly in the breeze. A minute later, the yellow bus with flashing light slowed to a stop. The doors opened, Sara climbed the stairs and the kids stared at the new girl. A stunning girl with silky black hair motioned to the empty space next to her and Sara sat next to her tentatively.

“I’m Mickie,” the girl said, holding out her hand boldly.

“Sara,” she smiled, taking her hand.

Just after three, Sara bounded in the kitchen door, her face bright. Her wig was no where in sight.

“Sara!” her mother exclaimed, “What happened? Did the wig fall off? Honey, I’m sorry, I thought we’d got it on.” She reached out to hug Sara, but the small girl just giggled.

“It’s okay, Mom! I took it off. In science class, a stupid boy behind me yanked on my hair.”

“He did what?!”

“Mom, it’s okay, just let me finish, remember? Interruptions? Anyway, when he pulled, my wig came off. Most of the kids laughed at me and started calling me ‘freak’ and ‘baldy’, one called me ‘cue ball’. The teacher was about to yell at them when Mickie-my friend-stood up and told them all to shove it!” she grinned.

“She said ‘shove it’? In front of the teacher?” her mother asked, taken aback.

“Yep! Right in front of the teacher. She told the kids they were being mean and stupid. I felt like I was gonna cry but she looked at me and told me that I should never be afraid to be me! She’s great, Mom! And she’s one of the most popular kids in the seventh grade. She asked me to sit with her at lunch AND she said I shouldn’t worry about not having any hair because hair doesn’t make someone a nice person. And can you believe it, she said I was pretty!”

Tears welled up in her mother’s eyes. Sara rambled on, her smile wide. Suddenly, she stopped, seeing her mother’s tears.

“What, are you mad, Mom?” Her mom grabbed her in a fierce hug.

“Of course not, Chickadee. I’m so happy for you. I’m so happy you made a friend on your first day.” She looked into Sara’s face. “How about some pizza for dinner?”

“Can I invite Mickie over to hang out and stay for dinner?”

“Sure, Chickie. We’ll get half cheese and half Sara Special.”

“Yes!” Sara shrieked. “Olives and hot peppers! I’m gonna call Mickie.” Sara rushed into the living room and in moments, her mother saw her chattering away into the phone, her hand brushing her smooth head.

Betsy Kerr was nervous.

It wasn't that she didn't like school, but the idea of starting anew terrified her. First day of Senior year, she thought. First day of Senior year, and I don't know a soul. It had been nearly a year since the accident, and her parents thought it best if she got a fresh start. The hum of her father's SUV seemed to be trying to lull her into a more peaceful frame of mind, but Betsy's mind was awash with possibilities.

What if no one likes me? Will I be able to find my classes? Will this school be anything like Paulding High? What if I fall flat on my face in front of everyone?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden stop of the car. Her father placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Here we are, honey. Let me walk you in." Lovely, Betsy thought. I get to be embarrassed by having my father as my personal escort. She slowly eased out of the car, trading the cool interior for the less-forgiving August heat. Her father took her arm and pulled her towards the school entrance. Betsy was horrified, but strangely excited by the process. Maybe this would be a good thing. New school, new year, new friends -- it could happen. Anything could happen.

Her father held the door as Betsy timidly shuffled inside. Thankfully, the office was a few short strides from the sea of people trying to make their way to homeroom. Betsy tucked her hair behind her ears and tried to straighten up. Appearances were everything in her family, and she had to put on a brave face. A booming, friendly voice appeared out of the blue, startling her. "This must be Miss Kerr! Betsy, I'm Michael. I will be showing you around Tremore today." Her hand disappeared in his over sized grip as he enthusiastically shook her hand. Betsy turned her face in the direction of her father, who released his firm grasp on her shoulder. With a quick kiss, he was gone. This is it, she thought. No turning back now.

Thankfully, Michael ended up being an excellent guide. They maneuvered down the crowded hallway with ease, with Michael talking all the while about the history of Tremore. Betsy nodded appreciatively, focusing more on her own fluid movements than much of what Michael had to say. She carried her bookbag in a death grip, praying that she wouldn't get knocked down by the surge of shoulders brushing past her. It was all a bit overwhelming -- Michael's soliloquy, the seemingly-choreographed stampede of feet around her, the thunderous smell of the locker rooms -- Betsy tried to take it all in as best she could. So many things were crucial to remember. The cafeteria was to the left of her locker, which was to the left of the water fountain. She counted the steps in her head, but was interrupted by the noise of doors closing. "Homeroom," Michael sighed. "We will worry about that tomorrow. Let's finish the tour."

He led her through the hallway, with the silence being interrupted occasionally by the smart clicking of high heels as teachers rushed to their classrooms. Michael helped her down the art hallway, continuing his friendly banter as they cut across the lawn to the front doors. "Full circle," he said. Betsy was thinking about anything but circles. There was no way she could remember all this. The first period bell rang, scaring Betsy within an inch of her life. Michael stifled a low chuckle and offered to walk Betsy to her first class at Tremore. You better, she thought. You've got my mind in such a state that I don't think I could find my face with both hands.

The door swung open with a gentle creak, and the soft murmur of her new classmates stopped. She pushed her hair from her shoulders. It was now or never. She forced a smile and straightened herself up again. "Welcome, Miss Kerr," chirped a friendly female voice behind her. "Two desks to your right." Betsy left Michael's side for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, and slowly made her way to her desk. She slid into her seat, fumbling in her bookbag for her Science book. She startled at the feeling of a hand on her back. "Hello Betsy," the voice sang, "I'm Nan. We've been looking forward to meeting you." A few other voices around her echoed the greeting. Maybe this won't be so bad. She shifted excitedly in her seat as she ran her fingers over the cover of her new book. The Braille seemed to interrupt the smooth laminated surface, but Betsy felt out every letter with ease. Not bad at all.

My first day of school was a disaster, and one that after close personal reflection, was actually the catalyst of my demise. Before this story unfolds let me start off by saying that I was not a willing party in any of the events of that fateful day. I only tell you this so that it may shed some light on my enviable reactions to what I am about to describe. As I hope you will see as I give my testimony, I am not a bad dog. I was tricked into this situation because of my desire to please, my deep seeded need to fulfill my destiny, and the promise of a treat.

I remember clearly days after my eyes first opened my birth mother explaining to me and my siblings the sacred family motto: Umquam erectus. Prognatus protego. (Ever alert. Born to protect.) We had come from a proud Germanic Sheppard line, carrying the protector tradition closely in our hearts we passed this honored heritage down from generation to generation. I knew at that moment, I would forever wear the burden of my birthright proudly. It was the next day that I was removed from the bosom of my birth mother and placed into the loving arms of my Lady owner. It was not until much later I realized by leaving my litter-mates early I had missed the second half of the lesson.

Leaving the house that fateful day I was ushered to the box on wheels my mistress calls car. Having been confronted with this thing before I was immediately apprehensive about entering it again but did as my Lady asked. I had on a previous outing learned that the my Lady did not like her car soiled, and it was just bad luck that this time as it began to move I suddenly felt very ill. Unable to control myself, I vomited. Knowing my lady would be displeased by my actions, my mess had to be quickly hidden, so doing what needed be done, I began to eat the evidence. It then I was caught. Feeling completely downtrodden at being scolded by my Lady I performed some light hygienic cleansing to my genitals. At least I would be a clean "bad boy".

Soon enough the nauseating movement ceased and the car door opened. From my perch in the back seat I could smell that the grass was covered in traces of innumerable amounts of animal markers. It was then I was overwhelmed by worry for my Lady owner's safety. I immediately sounded the alarm, "Stop! You are in a mine field of unfriendly activity."

Just then, my Lady shifted her feet and stepped right into a mound of.. Trouble. Not understanding my native tongue she picked me up and placed me into the overly saturated ground.

Knowing now my duty was to protect my Lady I ran ahead seeking out aggressors before they could sneak up on us. Hearing her elevated voice behind me only moved me forward for suddenly I was face to face with a young male of my species. His breed had not allotted him size, but he made up for it with his vocal prowess.
"Stay back. Stay back. Stay back." was his only mantra.
Raising my tail and giving it a slight wag I replied, "Steady. I am not a threat if you do not harm my Lady."

Seeing me as the obvious better he presented his backside for me to mount, as is the custom to show dominance. But as I was about to engage, I was suddenly seized by the scruff of the neck. Not recognizing the strangers smell I reacted on instinct, turning and biting the offending hand. I was dropped to the ground, slightly dazed I lifted my head to peer at a large and robust woman. It was then my Lady appeared and quickly scooped me up into her arms. I was relieved to see that she was safe and immediately began covering her face in affection.

I am not fluent in human, but what I did catch of the conversation seemed to be praise at the time. Words like "aggressive" and "male dominance" made the primitive wolf in me smile. After their short conversation my Lady and I reentered the car and this time without incident we returned home.

It was not until a few weeks later that my decisions of that day caught up to me, when my Lady and I went on a very different journey. It was a place I remembered immediately as the smell of antiseptic assaulted my nose. My Lady kissed me on the head and handed me over to the Man in White, and I whimpered as he placed me into the cage. What happened after that is a little fuzzy but I do know I lost a part of myself that day.

This, my tale of the first day of school, I hope will serve as a word of warning to those who follow in my paw prints. If only I had known the second half of the lesson my story may have ended quite differently. But alas now that I cannot have descendants of my own I give this seed of knowledge to you: Fossor quisnam morsus manus manus ut magister , vadum puter suus virtus. (The fool who bites the hand that teaches, shall loose his manhood.)

I should have listened to my brother’s warning. Fifth grade is rough. The first day was especially tough. Wait, before I tell you what happened I’ll tell you who I am. I’m Ronnie James Marson, or R.J. for short. I’m ten and in the fifth grade. Now I’ll tell you my story.
Yesterday was the first day of school at East Cranton Elementary. Well, when I was eating breakfast my older brother Michael, he’s fifteen, was telling me what fifth grade was like for him. He made it seem so horrible and bad, but I didn’t believe him. I wish I would have. He told me that the teachers were like sea serpents, evil and mean, and that the classes were really hard. I just ignored him. I mean it’s your last year of Elementary school, how bad could it be? That’s what I’m going to tell you.
When Mom dropped me off I followed all of the other fifth graders to the gym. I sat by this kid I didn’t recognize. We weren’t supposed to talk but I wanted to know who he was so I had to talk to him. “Who are you?” I whispered. “Cameron Smith,” he said back. I thought about it and I just couldn’t figure out who he was. I guess he noticed the confused look on my face because what he told me made me realize why I didn’t recognize him. “I failed the fifth grade last year.” I couldn’t say anything after that because Ms. Lowey, the principal, started calling out the students in each class. About halfway down the list for Mr. Carson’s class, my name was called. When I stood up Cameron turned to me and said, “Good luck R.J., you’re going to need it.” That scared me.
After the rest of my classmates were called out we followed Mr. Carson to his class. “Ok class I’m going to give you ten minutes to get to know each other, if you don’t already know each other.” Everyone in the class started moving around when he said that. My buddies Max and Cory came and sat next to me. “I can’t believe we all got put in the same class,” Cory said. “I know it’s great,” Max said looking at me, “and Mary Beth Watley is in here too.” Mary Beth was the prettiest girl in our grade and Max has liked since the third grade. Cory rolled his eyes and laughed. I couldn’t help but laugh too. Max just sat there and ignored us. We sat and talked for a few more minutes, and then Mr. Carson made us be quiet. “Ok, now I’m going to give you a little math quiz to see what you know.” Yeah, we had a math test on the first day. I looked at that paper and didn’t know half of the stuff on it. I mean, what average fifth grader is going to know what a fraction is? That was yesterday and I still don’t really know what it is other than confusing! Well after he graded those (I got an 80) we started doing some spelling which wasn’t that hard. He gave me the words bagged, amused, cater, and annoying. I forgot one of the ns in annoying, but other than that I didn’t miss anything. After that he made us read a little short story that was a little boring.
Once the whole class finished reading we were let out for lunch. This is really where my day goes bad. We had chili dogs for lunch, which I didn’t mind, I like chili dogs, but when Cory went to sit down he hit the side of my plate and made it dump over into my lap. So I had a huge chili stain on my pants. He apologized so many times, it got annoying. Hey look I spelled it right. Anyways we got to go to the playground when we finished eating. I was leaning up against the monkey bars looking at my pants when Maddie Clayton came up and told me to play tag with her and some of her friends. Maddie is this extremely cute girl in Ms. Campton’s class that I had a crush on last year, so yeah I said I’d play. Well when Cory was It he tagged her. She started running after me so I ran away from her. I was looking behind me at her and didn’t hear her yell “look out,” in time for me to realize I was about to trip over the balance beam. That was so embarrassing. Not only did I have a chili stain on my pants but I had a grass stain too. Maddie couldn’t stop laughing andI sat out the rest of the game.
When we got back to class Mr. Carson wanted us to glue name tags on tubs to keep our books in. I managed to glue my paper to my hand. The day kept getting worse too. I missed all of the questions he asked me for science and nearly fell out of my seat after that. I was so glad when final bell rang and I could go home. Michael wasn’t completely right about fifth grade, but it wasn’t as great as I had hoped for. Oh yeah Maddie was still laughing about what happened today.

Well, my first day back to college. Me, being excited about the day And the work ahead, walking blindly into the unknown abyss. My story begins early Monday morning, five o'clock early, I live 47 miles away from my college. When I wake up the first thing I realize is that I left my truck headlights on all night. When I go out and try to start it, it's a dead, big shocker there right? So anyways I hook up the battery charger to it and go inside to shower and eat breakfast. As I walk inside the dog slips outside behind me, that's fine she can go out now. So anyways, where was I, was my train of thought, oh right breakfast and shower. So take my shower, have my bowl of frosted flakes, and watch Star Trek for a half an hour. Then I go out and try to start my truck again, and it fires right up. As I get down to the end of my street I realize I forgot to let the dog in. I turn around thinking that I was going to be late for my first day, not a very good first impression. So I let the dog in, and go on my way. Now, to get to school I have to go down a highway. My truck doesn't like doing over 60 mph, so I'm getting passed left and right. I finally arrive at my school. As I'm walking around trying to find my first class I see a couple people I knew in high school. I find my first class, drawing graphic design, and fall asleep. Once woken up by the teacher's ruler, I head off to my next class, and the day progresses as such. Once my two-hour break comes around, I head off to the subway down the street. Last year I was a usual here, and they still recognize me. After eating I go back to school and study for an hour. Then my last class of the day, history of graphic design. The most boring class in the world, but for some reason I can't fall asleep, must've been all of the sleep I got earlier. The teacher starts going on and on and on and on and on about some cave paintings in France. I had one of my math flashbacks, when am I ever really Going to use the stuff right? Anyways, after classes over I head over to my girlfriend's house and, um, “talk” with her for a while. Then I head home. Once home I make sure to turn off my headlights, let the dog outside, then inside again. When I lay down after dinner to go sleep, I realize, that my morning was much more interesting than the day I had. But that's just the way life goes.