I watched as people danced on their ice skates. You could hear the scritch-scratch of metal on ice. That wasn’t me though. I wasn’t brave enough to step foot on the slick ice. I sat, a nervous frown plastered to my face. A chill crept through my jacket and down my spine.
In the ridiculous heat of Florida, on a bright, summer day in June, my fifth grade class chose to go ice skating. As we loaded onto our lemon colored school bus, my excitement and nervous energy clashed with each other. “What if I fall?” I wondered. I sat next to my friend, and smiled at him.The same Sebring scenery flew by outside the window. As time lurched on, the familiarity changed. We were getting closer and closer to our destination and that long,…show more content… I just stood there at the gate. Every time he passed, he sprinkled some words of encouragement into the air. Even some of my teachers exchanged a few words with me to give me courage. One final glance around the rink. That’s all it took for me to place one foot on the rink then another. I clung to the bars as if my life depended on it. At first I was a little frustrated, from how slow I was going. My friend was skating circles around me while I lagged behind. I never was as fast as him, even though I got a little faster every time I went around the rink. Once, twice, three times...I was finally ready to let go from some persuasion of my friend when, “Everyone off the rink, it’s time to go!” one of the staff members called. I was really disappointed. Slowly I went, still gripping the bars. “Only a little more to go.” I mumbled to myself. Then, another one of the staff members asked if I was in need of assistance. I solemnly nodded as she took my hands, and with a smile, skated with me across the rink. I was marveling at her incredible ability to skate backwards. She was gliding on the smooth cold surface as if she were floating on air. My friend and I walked out the same sliding doors together, talking about our first time experiences ice skating.
As I took off my skates and gathered my belongings, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened that day. My teachers called us outside where we began to eat our lunches picnic style. I sat next to my friend eating his school-provided lunch, which I had deemed inedible, and opened my own lunchbox and began to eat myself. We laughed and talked about the frosty rink, enjoying that same summer day where the breeze fluttered by and the few trees provided
