The wind is so cold it hurts as it brutally hits my face. I could only close my eyes in fear that the frosty wind would ice the water in them. While doing this I mentally and physically pushed myself to walk faster, my only goal at this point was to seek warm shelter. At dusk ,the school stands as a massive shadow. It seems a lot more grand with its white massive Greek columns that gave a classical addition to the contemporary sleek glass bridge, both represented  two completely different time periods. The view only holds my attention so long as my mind thinks about the physical pain winter has on my numb fingers and my blood that feels like it’s frozen. I walk with my eyes on the only source of light from within the towering blue doors. Each step carried weight as I walked up the stairs in hopes to not be swept by the 50 miles per hour wind. I walk even faster to catch the door, my numb fingers couldn't bear to hold the icy cold handles. I finally walk in with a few other students who were all quiet. We all had the same goals of reaching the toasty school to shield us from the whiplash of the wind.

The hot air and fluorescent lights immediately hit when I walked through the doors. Everyone could hear the echoing voice “Swipe and check”(or some other inadmissible word that no one has yet deciphered). Inside, the air was stale with a faint smell of cleaning products. We were further forced into the auditorium by deans whose faces showed they  were just as upset as the students that the weekend was over. There were two types of attitudes from the students. Half the class looked like zombies with bags under their eyes, who were still recovering from the loads of homework that caused the common condition of sleep deprivation. The other half chirpy and complained about the weather, the day, and the teachers basically everything under the sun. The bell was about to ring and we were packed like sardines by the doors. It reminded me of the lines during the Great Depression. We all wanted to get to class early, me especially since it would be one of the few times during the week.  

The way up the stairs were unusually clean and even more surprisingly so were the hallways. I ducked my head hoping not to make eye contact with the teachers I would see later today. The gray steep stairways caused students to huff and puff clearly showing our lack of physical ability. The wall had new artwork of abstract circles within circles that gave some color to the bland wide hallways. I finally reached the destination I’ve been planning on since 5 AM, my hard metal seat that had absolutely no support. The trademark signs of our teacher were there, his yogurt, his venti sized coffee to get him through the day and his backpack on the chair. From the back of the room he reverberated “Good morning”. His oddly optimistic attitude contrasted with ours. To each one of us it signaled that if we ultimately sucked it up and had a latte we too could conquer Language and Composition.