Maheen Nazakat - Aged 11

GOODBYE YEAR 6…

HELLO RECEPTION ?

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“Wakey wakey Maheen, it’s time to get up for your last day of primary school!” my mum smiled. My curtains were half open, and I felt  the sun dancing on my eyelids. I shielded my eyes, yawned and protested 

 

“Please mama, 5 minutes” I begged.

 

“Okay fine,” she sighed reluctantly leaving the room to go wake my younger brother.

I sat up  rubbed my tired eyes. Last day of primary school: the thought was immensely overwhelming, and I was still processing it.  Just then dad walked into my messy room. “How are we feeling?” he asked interestedly.

 

“Excited and upset, I don’t want to leave, I’m not ready for year 7!” I wittered on. My tummy was causing me to feel unsettled. Five minutes later I got begrudgingly out of my warm bed , briskly got myself ready for school and buttoned up my pristine white school shirt. When I got downstairs, I found my brother had  already finished his cereal and was eagerly waiting at the front door. “Someone’s excited!” I laughed.

 

I finished my cereal and packed my pens for people to sign with: a magenta pen, a baby blue felt tip and a new coral marker. My mother drove us to school.

 

As I entered my classroom, an army of my classmates in white shirts, which would be soon filled with vibrant colours, caught my eye. As the school day passed, my friends and I, exchanged numbers, signed shirts all whilst shedding tears and hugged it out. Then the last hour approached.

 

All classes sat in the hall and parents started filing in for the leaver’s assembly. My heart sank, what if my parents didn’t make it. I tried to shove the disappointment away, just then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my parents smiling and waving at me from the back of the line. An irresistible grin spread from ear to ear. My parents had made it to my last primary school assembly!

 

As the assembly came to an end, people clapped us out. Teachers frantically gave out millions of tissues to weeping parents. I hug my friends again, refusing to let go. Reluctantly, each of us then dawdled out the school gates for the last time as students. We drove away and as I waved goodbye to my teachers and friends, a hot prickly tear raced down my cheek.

 

Later that evening, I drowned my sorrows with pizza and ice-cream and being allowed to stay up and watch a movie helped too! As my mother tucked my warm fluffy blanket over me and kissed me goodnight, I slowly became unconscious from the real world and drifted off into dreamland my worries and troubles forgotten.

 

“Wakey wakey Maheen!” My mum smiled. “Are you excited for big school, it’s a big change from nursery but the years 6’s will help you” she affirmed, whilst tickling me gently under my chin.

 

A feeling of confusion swept over me. Why was my mother talking to me as if I was a 5-year-old, and what did she mean by year six’s helping me, I was in year six! Questions swirled in my head as my mother began to dress me and my room although familiar, seemed odd. My pink rug and desk were replaced with many of my old teddies and dolls and my bookshelf had gone. As my mother combed my thick dark brown hair and neatly plaited them into pigtails, I glanced at myself in the mirror. I felt my blood turn cold as it dawned upon me : I had turned into my 5-year-old self! I stopped the urge to scream.

 

I quickly decided what to do; keep calm and pretend to go along with it, perhaps it’s a prank? So, I obediently finished my porridge and put my bright pink coat on. Mother drove me to school, and I pretended to love singing ‘the wheels on the bus’. When we approached the school gates, tears filled my mother’s eye’s. She bent down and gave me tight squeeze “I’m going to miss you so much, but don’t worry I will pick you up at 3” she promised.

 

As I walked through the reception classroom Mrs Shelton, a teacher who I was taller than just yesterday, seemed quite tall now. “Hello Maheen!” she beamed. Her shiny black hair swung behind her. “Sit on the carpet whilst we wait for the last few children” she said. I sat on the rough carpet and looked around.

 

I noticed Rose’s hair was short and she was half the size of me, I smiled at her, and she stuck her tongue out at me. Charlotte didn’t have her glasses and looked adorable. “Welcome to reception” Mrs Shelton began, “I am your class teacher am going to help you learn”.

 

“So are your buddies who you’re going to meet tomorrow” she continued. BUDDY? I didn’t need a buddy to help me, in fact I was a year 6 buddy myself. I felt like exploding at the thought of being 5 again.

 

At lunch we went first. The dinner lady asked me what I wanted, and I said pizza, behind me I heard rose say “ew” and snigger with her friends and when I went to sit down rose said there was no space indicating for me to go sit somewhere else. I ended up sitting on my own all because of Rose and her stupid friends, trying to wipe the tears under my eyes.

 

As the day went on, it became clearer that this was no prank, I became more stressed and started wishing I could go back to being 11 and escape Rose and her friends, everything seemed disoriented. Soon it was almost home time, thoughts whirled in my head until it was too much that I wanted to cry. Then suddenly, slowly everything began to fade, Rose’s face became distorted, as I looked around everything began to look dim, the faces looked fuzzier, the tiny blue chairs looked tinnier and the walls were now almost withering away, I felt like a floating cloud.

 

As I landed, I felt the softness of my blanket, wrapped around me and heard my dad snoring away. I felt a rush of relief as my senses returned, I realised it was just a dream!

 

Reassured, I smiled to myself, I have all summer holidays to relax and enjoy now, year 7 can wait.

 

THE END.