I remember my best friend and I walking through the campus, savoring every corner, every memory, and every little detail the school held for us. From the vast classrooms to the tiniest moments symbolized by something as simple as a piece of chalk, we admired it all with reverence.
Among all the spaces, one held a special place in my heart—the Communicative English (C.E.) classroom. That room wasn’t just a classroom; it was a haven, an emotion. It gave me a sense of peace and comfort I found nowhere else in my school life. Only five students, including myself, took the subject, and that intimacy created a safe space where I could express myself without hesitation.
It was there that I formed a deeper bond with my English teacher, whose warmth and wisdom turned ordinary classes into life lessons. She shared snippets of her life—stories of her triumphs and struggles, that made us admire her even more. That classroom was also where my friendship with my best friend grew stronger. Together, we laughed, learned, and celebrated small joys like birthdays and festivals.
On special occasions, we’d decorate her board with drawings, pouring our creativity into making the day brighter for her. She, in turn, would bring us little treats, gestures of affection that felt like a breath of fresh air amidst the grueling hours of physics and chemistry.
That classroom, with its heartfelt conversations and unfiltered laughter, became my sanctuary—a place where love, care, and friendship thrived. When I think of my school, it’s this room and the memories it holds that I treasure the most.
This is the one place my heart still longs for. If I could turn back time to my school days, it would be just to relive those cherished moments in my CE class.
On the last day of school, all I could feel was the aching sadness of losing those precious hours spent in that class.
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