Up the Right Road (Personal Narrative)

Michael Anderson                                                                                                         Anderson 1           

Sister Steadman

Writing 150

11/19/15

Up the Right Road

            “Hurry up!” Alexander shouted from the front door. “They’re already there!” I frantically copied down the rest of his answers onto my history assignment. The guilty feeling I had while finishing the homework quickly vanished as we ran out the door to meet our friends at Taco Bell.

“Did you guys finish the homework?” my friend Harrison asked while standing in line. My stomach tightened.

“Yeah,” Alexander said looking up at Harrison. “I had it done but Michael just finished copying mine.” I felt sick. Copying wasn’t a big deal to my friends, after all, they did it all the time. However, I had never copied anything in my life, and to my sixth grade conscience, copying was rivaled only by murder.

I devoured my crunchwrap supreme in silence, oblivious to the mindless chatter of my friends. I tried to rationalize. We worked together on it. She won’t catch it, right? I did it for a good cause. I’m having fun with my friends. None of my thoughts could rid the gripping feeling, but the shame was not strong enough to cause me to redo the assignment.

            I turned in the plagiarized assignment the next day at school and flushed it out of my memory. However, I enjoyed only 24 hours of peace before that familiar pit in my stomach returned in full force.

            Anderson 2

I listened intently, paralyzed with fear while my 6^th grade teacher Mrs. Charlie wandered the room speaking to the class. This however wasn’t her usual lecture. Today, she began class by talking about academic honesty. Every word was directed at me and pierced me like a spear. I looked across the room at Alexander and he flashed a cocky smile at me. HOW COULD HE BE SMILING AT A TIME LIKE THIS? It was then that Mrs. Charlie passed my seat and nonchalantly slipped a note on my desk. Whelp, there it goes, I’m done for. I stared at the note sitting face down on my desk. I knew what it said but I reached for it still.

“See me after class.” it read. Chills rushed down my spine. I’d been caught, plain and simple. I glanced at the classroom door and considered making a run for it. What was my mom going to do? Where will I run away? The rest of class inched by agonizingly slow and I spent the majority of it with my head in my arms. I occasionally looked up and watched the second hand stroll around the clock, but each tick filled me more and more with dread. Finally the clock struck 3:10 and the bell rang. My classmates excitedly grabbed their backpacks and flushed out the door, while I remained shamefully in my seat. I looked to my right and Alexander sat across the room with the same yellow note on his desk, but this time, his smile was gone.

“Come back here boys,” Mrs. Charlie said. I had trouble reading the tone of her voice. It almost sounded as if she wasn’t mad. We walked over to her desk where she sat squished in her seat.  “I think you guys know why you’re here, right?” she asked us.

Anderson 3

“Yeah,” we replied in unison, making sure she heard the sadness in our voices.

“Character is something I value above everything else,” she began,  “you have nothing if not your character.” Our eyes were glued to the floor. “I’m going to give you credit for the assignment.” Our eyes shot up and looked at her in confusion. “The score is not important. What I want you boys to understand is that nothing in life should be traded for your integrity. If I catch you again there will be consequences, but I’m giving you boys another chance. I know you’re good kids, now show me.” Alexander and I followed her remarks with a series of apologies and left the classroom.

“I can’t believe she let us off the hook!” Alexander exclaimed as we walked home. “You can’t copy word for word next time! That was so stupid dude.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” I said with a relieved laugh.

            “Did you finish the math?” he asked, changing the subject.

            “No not yet, I’m gonna do it when I get home,” I replied.

            “Harrison and I are gonna do it at his house and then play tramp basketball if you want.” I thought for a second as we approached the turn to my house.

            “Nah my mom said I had to be home today,” I said, putting on a sad face.

            “Alright later!” he said as he continued down the trail that wandered into the dense trees. I turned right off of the path and walked up my street. A feeling of calmness enveloped me as I entered my home. My older brother sat at the dining room table doing his homework. I sat next to him and began doing mine.