Well, here it is: my final column of the year.

I thought about making this an article packed full of entangling descriptions, enthralling figurative language, and beautiful words. However, I then reconsidered my decision and found that a simple story, not some big ending, is the brilliant way I want to conclude my junior year of TCT columns. So, here it is: my simple story to end this complex, crazy, wonderful junior year.

It starts with me walking into a classroom. However, this classroom wasn’t like all the others that scattered the school; no, there was something different about it. There was a certain aroma that whispered into the room, an attractive breath of fresh air that suddenly filled my lungs.

I stood in the doorway for a moment while I absorbed the details in front of me. The room in front of my eyes felt familiar–homey. One of my favorite movies, The Great Gatsby, was plastered across a wall, intriguing me upon entrance, and books filled once-empty spaces in each waning crack. My eyes were quickly drawn to the opposite side of the classroom, which seemed to be its own little room itself. There were students swarming about in that room, some on couches, some typing away at their computers in comfy seats, and others enthralled in conversation with one another. It was the kind of scene that one instantly desires to become a part of–a circus of fascination.

I stepped into the more simple side of the classroom where a circle of chairs entangled a varied group of students who filled the air with the warming sensation of chatter between friends. I found myself a seat in the more deserted bundle of chairs and continued to take in the atmosphere that enveloped me. I was met by only a few familiar faces, but I remained with a feeling of comfort in where I was. I was stuck on the fact that when I emerged into that classroom I was discovering something new; as I stepped through the door, I was escaping into this new, bright, colorful world.

The room, at least the half I was perched in, hushed as our teacher entered the room. He gave us this big introduction to his biggest love, The Central Trend. I scanned the room as he spoke and saw all of the wide-eyed, eager students around me. I began to have this feeling that we were about to become a part of something—something important, something great. I realized that the first step into the classroom I had taken just ten minutes earlier was only the first escape on this journey in this brand new world.

For most of that class, I remember hearing each little detail about what was to come, but it all ended up barely grazing the surface of this great mountain I was about to climb—the great journey I would find myself traveling for my entire junior year. What I heard that day was only the beginning of this immense, intricate, incredible story I would find myself wrapped up in.

As that class began to come to a close, we were all told to write something, something to inspire what this class is intended to inspire: writing.

So, I opened my laptop and let my fingers explore the keyboard, writing whatever story they wanted to tell. 

And that was where it all started. My love for writing, for telling a story, my passion for words, my boundless love for The Central Trend. It all started on that first day of junior year as I stepped into Mr. George’s classroom and found myself in a world I would never want to leave.