The last day of 8th grade had to be no doubt the most emotion-filled day of my life. To be completely honest I was not prepared of how much I was going to cry that day, but I would soon figure out that I was going to cry a lot. Going to my grade school for the last day ever was harder than I would have ever imagined.

As I walked into the school the same smell of glue sticks and bad cafeteria food filled my nostrils. It was a smell I was familiar with and had grown to love. I walked into my classroom wearing my itchy 8th grade sweatshirt with the names of everyone I grew up with filled in two numbers. It’s a number that will always mean something to me; it’s the year I graduated 8th grade, my field hockey number, and it has always been a lucky number of mine: the number 23.

Going into my 8th grade homeroom, 8A, held in my tears. The people I love were standing in this room. The people I’ve known since I was 5, the people I’ve gone through First Communion, Reconciliation and now Confirmation with. These people are family and today was the last I went to school with them. It was a bittersweet moment because I was very excited to move on from grade school, but I will always love this place. St. Aloysius was the school I went to from kindergarten to 8th grade, but now it was time for me to have a new chapter in my life and that new chapter was Assumption High School.

The sound of sad, quiet conversation remined me of the kind of conversation at a funeral. After signing yearbooks with long paragraphs about how much we will miss our friends and multiple tears being shed, it was time.

The day was almost over; the last thing to do was the walk around the school. This part is what I was excited about but also dreading. As I grabbed one of my best friends’ hand, we walked down the hallway. Claps filled our ears like a basketball team that has just won state. I squeezed her hand tighter and tighter as we moved down the long hallways filled with kids.

Today was the last day we would be going to school together. We were going to different high schools and up till now I didn’t want to accept that it was the truth.

Then in the hallways was where the waterworks hit everyone. Some of the boys will say they didn’t cry but we all know they did even if it was only one single tear.

Walking down the kindergarten hallway I saw their small figures looking up at us with their mouths open like a koi fish. One day they will be in this spot but not, yet they still have a long time to come. I hope they cherish their years at this school with their friends because I wish I would have cherished mine more. Now this meant my last 10 years at St. Aloysius is over.