Descriptive Writing #2

As I pondered the multitude of eyes beaming at me from the magnificent creature, I proceeded to present my research paper.  The bright lights were gleaming upon my anxious façade and every last person was staring into my soul and anticipating any mistakes I might make.  I took one last look around the crowded classroom.  Then I began.  “As president of the United States, Andrew Jackson had both his successes as well as his downfalls.  He was the one responsible for killing the federal bank and forcing the Native Americans across the far-off Mississippi River.  During his terms was the only time in United States history in which this broad and populous country has been completely debt free.”  I began to stutter over the simplest of words, my palms were sweating as if it were July when it was still only winter.  I continued on reading the rest of my long and dry paper to the uninterested class, some of whom had already fallen asleep before I finished reading the second paragraph.  Finally, it was over.  I looked up at the bored class and realized that they had all sprung back to life upon the end of my conclusion.  As I began to walk back towards my seat, everyone, and I mean everyone, began to throw rotten tomatoes, slimy banana peels, and other random objects at me.  One student even pulled out a paintball gun and shot me with the colors orange, green, and blue.  I shouted confusedly for them to stop, explaining that I was wearing a brand-new outfit that day and that my mom would hang me at dawn for getting it dirty.  This only seemed to increase the barbarous actions.  Everyone went crazy throwing whatever item they could find at me.  Even the teacher threw an apple with “F-x10^23”  written in black sharpie on the midline of the apple, which ended up smacking me right on the jaw.  I tried to run out of the battle zone, but I tripped on a moist and slippery banana peel.  Apparently, I was knocked out for about an hour before I awoke in front of the same obnoxious and outlandish class.  The cruel teacher began to give a lecture on the next chapter before I finally asked when everyone else would present their splendid papers.  It was then that it was explained to me that the attack which had knocked me unconscious was the entire class’s result from their research paper.  They descriptively explained how randomly pelting someone with objects is likely to scare and confuse him or her, or in my case, knock that person out for an extended period of time.  I spent the rest of the seemingly endless class period thinking of creative ways to convince my parents to let me be homeschooled.