The never-ending bus ride home from middle school always warranted a bit of daydreaming until you could finally relax by whipping up an after-school snack and plopping down on the couch to an episode of The Vampire Diaries while simultaneously procrastinating that night’s homework.
Now, that bus ride has turned into strolling out to the student parking lot on early release and driving to Starbucks for an afternoon pick me up. This small act of freedom can’t help but feel bittersweet. Days, months, and years have flown by, and that little middle schooler can now call herself a high school senior.
The little things tend to hit a bit harder when walking through the halls as a senior. I see former teachers that smile at me with familiarity, and it takes me back to freshman orientation where I was asking them where I could find my classes. Now, as I easily navigate the CHS halls; knowing the best route to each bathroom, which stairwell leads to each hallway, and the room numbers to my favorite teacher’s classroom- I am sometimes burdened by the reality that my days here are numbered.
Freshman year for me was still very much immersed in covid-19 practices. Though I was seeing all my peers in person for the first time in over a year, the mask mandate made the whole first year experience a bit warped. Even now, I look back on the masks and social distancing and wonder how we have come so far.
Over the past four years, I have seen my time at CHS move as if in a time lapse. Every year I walk through the same halls scattered with a mix of familiar and new faces, but my feelings have always been the same; I wouldn’t be able to get through each year without the community I have created.
CHS is the haven for without I would have never met my greatest companions and received the richest education. The view from the top is bittersweet, but I know my time has been well spent, and each moment I have left will be cherished.
