While thinking about what to write about for my autobiographical essay, I looked at a special clock that I got from my uncle for Christmas. This clock was special in that it keeps track of the time by lifting up a metal balls one at a time to the top with a motor that has a plastic arm and drops the ball off in rows. When a row is filled the hour is over and the row is then dumped and the process cycles through again with the same metal balls in the same order. Reaching out to play around with this sensitive system, I knock one row and all the balls fell out of placed. Reassembling the system reminded me about the time when I had to go to school for the first time.
My days were routine like how a ball on my clock would cycle through the hours and be at the same location everyday. I would wake up and remembering my manners that my mom taught me, say good morning to my grandparents. After that I would go brush my teeth, which my grandpa would check afterwards to see that I have really, had brushed them. Giving the okay, my grandma would serve me breakfast everyday consisting of two scrambled eggs and rice. By this time my older cousins would arrive at my house and grandma would serve them too. After they finished eating
When the car stopped I was hoping to see someplace familiar but instead it was my first time on the parking lot of Clinton Elementary School. When I got into the classroom for the first time I saw so many kids my age. The class was then lined up to sit on the carpet floor which I remembered was marked with masking tape. The last thing that I remembered of that day was that my mom had to leave and she said she would be back. Not accepting the change in my life I demanded to go home. Pulling a hat-trick on me, she gave me a picture book from the classroom library and left when I was busy looking at it.
That was my day, I would always see the same people everyday like my clock would line up the same metal balls right next to each other every hour. The next day the cycle would start over again for a good two years. There were no weekends for me; Saturdays were just as good as my Mondays. I would never give any thought about that few hours when all of my cousins would be gone, and would just accept that things are the way they are and just move around it by playing with my little brother until they were back. The thing that I was told about this missing time was that they were at school and I would just let m
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