By: Nelson Cummiskey
It was a Monday. Students were getting back into the swing of things after Thanksgiving break, so it was particularly lethargic. The announcements had just stopped, and it seemed business as usual in first period. Suddenly, the sirens start blaring and it seemed a fire drill was in process. My first thought was, “uh oh, I’m on the toilet.” As I raced to get to my class before they left, I thought, “This can’t be a drill, I wouldn’t have been allowed to leave the classroom.” By then the general consensus among the student body was that someone pulled the fire alarm because they didn’t want to be there that day. As I joined my class and walked outside it seemed to be just a simple 5-minute wait and then we’d be back inside in no time. That assumption was very incorrect.
Once outside, it was very prevalent that winter is coming. The chilling weather was very inconvenient because I had only planned on being cold on the walk into school. This poor planning meant that I had a light sweatshirt on which was not quite up to par in its wind proofing ability. Every time the gale force winds swept through the bleachers of the football field, it was as if I were garbless in the arctic. I felt like a penguin with no feathers. Like a polar bear with no fur. Like an elf who had been cast out because he was drastically underperforming in the creation of toys and kept antagonizing the reindeer. It was very cold, and it lasted what seemed like an eternity.
Just as I was beginning to give in to the Himalayan like temperatures, the whistle sounded. Finally, we were able to go back into our building. Thus began the trek through the frigid, splitting air, and into the warm, comforting heated air of North Springs. The crowds of people were tremendous. It also seemed as though this was the opportune time that many of the students here thought it would be good to walk ever so slowly. I like to give the benefit of he doubts and assume that it was because the freezing temperatures had created a slower reaction in their muscles, but it is still up for debate. As I entered the building, I was greeted by the wondrous feeling of heat created by the marvels of modern technology that are so underappreciated by this new generation.
As the sliver of first period that we had left came to a close, we thought that would be the end of the debacle. As I walked down the hall, I realized that our trek into the frigid was much more than just a drill. A smell, something that smelled like a heavily manufactured object had just caught fire. Unfortunately, that was correct. As it turns out, there was a stove in the basement that had caught fire. The basement was filled with smoke and classes were not allowed to resume there for the rest of the day. Since then, I have been haunted by the vomitous smell of a well done cut of school.