My HRH Tale
Coming home? Home to where high school life empties your memory bank. Honestly, I don't have a very happy high school life. My heartaches were three-fourths of my circle of fun. My first year diary told about excitement. I was excited about the new everything--uniform, classmates and teachers. I can picture the very first day I stood before class introducing myself -- my name, age and hobbies! More classmates came in turn up front. I remember my seatmate who found one classmate's flared up nose funny while talking. I came to imagine if my nostrils flared up the same and my seatmate reacted the same. I'd like to remember that she got to be amused and that there was no hint of bullying. At least, she was attentive. I felt that all I had was fussing over things that didn't even concern me. Add to things like these was the stiff competition over grades. I developed a bigger resentment on math subjects rooting that it was my Achilles' heel. My grandfat
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