How Cliche Is That Book!

How Cliche Is That Book!

Finally. The day had come, the first day of school.

I have been waiting for this moment for what seems like an eternity.

yet I still felt as if it bordered on uneventfulness.

too many giddy feelings that practically sing in my head, and too many what-if's that force me to lie awake at night.

My mind has been racing. It has stopped being a safety check, and now acts as the news channel that may purposely and suddenly cut off–with no warning or reason as to why.

I have seen my life flash before my eyes. I have convinced myself that I wanted to fail, or that the world was better off without me.

I have held back–not even a single catch from my teeth– from smiling. My hands have shook as if I have just heard a horrible family secret.

My feet have stumbled even though I have never stepped further than the water faucet.

My breaths have stopped as much as my heartbeat.

I have panicked more times in the past week than I care to mention. And yet, as I step into what is now, I realize I have never been more excited.

This is the start of my life, I think to myself as I grab my textbooks and shove them into my backpack.

I had not realized how much my mind has been racing until my mother told me she could not handle it. I had not realized how anxious I had been until my father took me to homecoming, walked me to my classroom, and watched as my classmates bowed to me in admiration. I had not realized how happy I was until I sat in front of my locker and laughed with my classmates and teachers as if I had known them for the rest of my life. My anxiety had faded. My worries had gone mute.
I can't wait until fifth period, just to see Emily again.

 Have you ever wondered if someone else is reading the same garbage you are under a different title? 

You now have the information. Take this quick test to see if your novel is as cliched as you think it is.


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