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Farewell to the Past and Greetings to By: Amphitrite (papervanity@gmail.com) Rated: PG Summary: Sometimes the most trivial things are the
ones that remain locked in our hearts forever. Sometimes the
most trivial things are the ones that remain locked in our hearts forever.
For me, my middle school graduation was one of these ‘trivial’ events. I stepped out of the van, black heels clicking audibly on the curb. I waited for my sister to climb out of the car and then shut the car door with a loud thud. My mother sped off. “Elaine!” I turned my head at the sound of my name and saw my friends gathering by one of the school’s numerous planters, where the faint smell of pine trees and fresh fallen leaves was emanating from the tree and the other plants growing there. I breathed in the lovely scent and walked towards the others. Everyone was dolled up to the extreme in fancy outfits of every color imaginable: black, white, turquoise, fuchsia, scarlet. I joined them, smiling and nodding at their remarks on my own formal wear. While part of me was listening to the idle chatter around me, the other was wondering if this would be the last time I’d be able to indulge in this kind of pleasure with the people I loved most in the world. After a few moments, the bell rang and we headed off to our respective homerooms. I looked around at all the beautiful people around me, and couldn’t stop the smile that rose upon my face. At eight-thirty sharp, we headed on over to the amphitheatre. The entire eighth grade lined up single file according to last name, myself being placed in the middle. There was a sense of excitement around me; I could not only hear it, but sense it as well. Most everyone seemed to be in good spirits, laughing and yelling with close friends. I could feel that many of my classmates were trying to have as much fun as possible, for many were going to different high schools and their drifting apart would be inevitable. I sighed at the thought. The majority of my close friends were sticking to Irvine High like myself, but there were a few that were planning on attending University High. Suddenly, the line began to move, and the voices became muted. The procession had begun. I drew in a deep breath and thought frantically, This is it, this is it! My stomach fluttered nervously and my classmates’ excited whispers informed me that they felt the same. The line kept moving, and everyone with it. I stepped up to the threshold of the Multi-Purpose room’s side entrance. I could faintly hear the music playing, and I knew who would be playing it: the Honor String Ensemble, consisting of one of my best friends, a few other acquaintances of mine, and another special person: Michael. My homeroom teacher, Mrs. Tomlin, gave me a gentle push and murmured a quiet ‘good luck’. I drew in a deep breath and stepped into the room. Time seemed to slow down as I slowly walked to my seat, standing straight up as we had practiced the previous day. I turned my head towards the stage, unable to resist a last look at the person that had claimed my heart for a year and a half. And there he was, ever the talented musician, playing the violin. I could practically hear my heart beating double-time to the beat of “Pomp and Circumstance”. Suddenly, I unexpectedly found tears welling in my eyes. Would this really be the last time I’d be able to see him? To see all of them? Yes, I told myself solemnly. This really would be the last time that we would all be together. Suddenly, the graduating eighth graders of Plaza Vista were not made of exclusive cliques and coteries. We were one unit, one company, united together as one on what seemed to me like the last day of my life. At last, I reached my seat and stood before it. The music flowed melodiously through my ears and I could see that it affected everyone else as well. I stood stock still as the rest of the eighth grade filed into the room serenely. The principal, Mr. Terry, said a welcoming speech full of quotes and anecdotes regarding graduation and moving on to better things. While I listened closely, my eyes began to drift. First, I examined my classmates, each with their own slightly nervous expression on their face. Then I looked at the room, decorated in paper palm trees, coconuts, hibiscuses and plumeria, and photos of our graduating class. These were decorations left over from the Promotion Dance and while they seemed a little silly at a graduation, they seemed to fit somehow. I scanned the audience for my parents, finding them sitting amidst the crowd. I caught my father’s eyes and attempted to smile, failing miserably. My friend Mary, sitting in the row behind me whispered, “Oh my god, Elaine, are you crying?” I shot her a pained look, flickering my eyes toward the orchestra sitting quietly on the stage, and she giggled. I looked away, just in time to see the aforementioned orchestra joining the audience. One of my best friends, Maggie Wang (the one that was in the Honor String Ensemble), walked up to the podium, adjusted the microphone, and began her Class Historian speech. She discussed our last five years at Plaza Vista, detailing the field, performances, and humorous events that had occurred in class. She spoke of friendships outlasting time and the illuminating experiences that none of us will ever forget. I tried to hold it in, but I did not manage to restrain the tear slipped down my cheek. Once again I sneaked a peek at Michael, feeling another tear beginning to fall. He was attending Northwood in autumn and I didn’t expect to ever see him again. I looked away, knowing that I would not be able to stop myself from sobbing aloud if I watched him for any longer. After a long stream of speeches from several different people lasting at least half and hour, it was time to hand out the diplomas. As each student’s name was called, the entire crowd would cheer deafeningly. I smiled brightly—though my eyes were still damp—and clapped loudly for all of my classmates. “Elaine Ou!” I grinned nervously and stood up, rushing to get to the stage and catching myself after I almost tripped. I received my award and shook many of my teachers’ hands enthusiastically. Standing on the stage, pausing for my parents to take pictures, I knew that this was a moment I’d remember for a very long time. After the diplomas and special recognition awards were handed out, I received a Presidential Award along with many others. As I sat back down, I examined the two certificates proudly and for a moment, I did not feel like crying anymore. That is, until they showed us a slideshow consisting of photographs taken throughout all our years. I could hear and see many of the other students crying as they watched the special moments captured on film, but I did not cry. And then the vice principal made a beautiful and inspiring ending speech, and he pronounced us officially promoted to high school, as the Plaza Vista Class of 2004. There was another procession out of the Multi-Purpose Room, accompanied by a piece performed by Mr. Terry. I stepped out of the room and instantly smelled the faint
redolence of rain and evergreen pines. Everyone was bustling around taking
pictures, saying goodbye to dear friends, and talking to their respected and
loved teachers. After the ceremony, I just could not stop crying. I honestly
did not think that I would cry, but I did. I mean, the thought of missing all
my friends, and the possibility of us drifting apart in high school was eyes
red and puffy throughout it all. I can honestly say that it was the first
time that I had ever cried for something for so continuously. For Michael,
for the friends and classmates that I would never see again, for the friends
that I was going to miss horribly over the summer, and for the school, too. I
do love the school. It holds so many memories dear to me. Every time I
spotted Michael, most dearest to me, I would just
break down. I kept saying incoherently, "Oh god, I have to see Michael
before we leave, I have to, please..." and everyone was so sweet
about it. My friends, the best people in the whole world, went with me up to
him and told him to take a picture with me. And you know what? He actually
consented. And he also held me, twice. It was the best, and my most favorite, moment in my entire life. If receiving my diploma had been memorable, this was a thousand times better. For a whole week after that, I could not stop smiling. Because I had liked Michael for almost two years, and he had always been saying that he hated me. And for him to do this for me, it was just… Unbelievable. I learned that dreams and wishes can come true, and to never lose hope, no matter how hopeless your situation appears to be. |