September 11th – school’s but ten days old. Already I know that I’m smarter than these other 1st graders. I sit at my desk, mouth-talking to my friend across the room as my teacher [who’s curently retired] hands out our papers. I recieve mine and see what I expect – 100%. My father thinks I should skip a grade, but I won’t exactly enjoy leaving my friends forever. That’d be like moving away.

All of the sudden, I hear screaming in the halls. Since we’re in the first grade hallway, I don’t really think much of it, for it happens often.

For no apparent reason, or so it seemed, a teacher bursts into our classes and tells my teacher to turn on the news. My teacher, much like the rest of us, was completly baffled. She searches hopelessly for the remote. Once she stumbles upon it, she hurrily turns it on. The teacher that had told us the news had left the room, so we had no idea what channel the gi-huge-ous news was on.

Being the experienced teacher she is, my teacher decides not to leave us 6yr olds alone.