That time, I was the protagonist, an 800-word essay about junior high school writing

That time, I was the protagonist_Junior high school essay 800 words (1)

Standing in the center of the stage, the chasing light above my head shines on my face, which is dazzling and a bit dazzling. My vision was blurred. My cheeks were slightly hot, my palms were slightly sweaty, and I could clearly feel the muscles in my legs shaking. I heard the familiar background music playing behind me, heard my own voice transmitted from the microphone to every corner of the venue, and felt my tight thighs relax... Every scene flashed through my mind, with every detail clearly visible. Everything is exactly the same, just because that time, I was the protagonist.

On the eve of the Art Festival, each class was busy preparing for their own class's program. One afternoon, I was suddenly called to the grade group. I saw the teacher handing over a red folder with a smile. I heard the teacher A gentle voice sounded: "You will be the host of this art festival."

It wasn't until I walked out of the grade group that my chaotic thoughts became slightly clearer. The teacher's words are still echoing in my ears: "The host is the protagonist on the stage. They support the entire performance and make each program go smoothly. I believe you will be fine." Protagonist... Since I was a child, I have been The characters in the class are at best the nameless audience who applaud silently in the audience, which is far different from the glamorous "protagonist" standing on the stage. But the teacher's trust cannot be betrayed... I fell into deep thought.

Since then, after school every day, there have been more figures in the school: either leaning against the window and reading aloud, or writing fast at the desk to change the string of words, or facing the mirror to adjust their expressions... ...In the grade group, there is also an invisible shadow: or discussing with the teacher how to make the language more beautiful, which word's pronunciation should be emphasized, whether to raise the words or end with a touch of sadness. I held the clip in one hand and the pen in the other, stopping and correcting, speaking and practicing, until the messy handwriting on the manuscript covered the paper, with a somewhat "unrecognizable" flavor. "I am the protagonist," I secretly told myself, "so I have to stick to it."

As the days passed, the hardware work was fully prepared, and the software work was gradually put on the agenda—— Body posture. Standing tall, raising your chest, tightening your belly and stretching your shoulders is the most uncomfortable feeling for me, who is always rickety. At the same time, it is even more difficult to speak fluently with a smile. I had no choice but to "stand" against the wall every day when I got home. At the same time, I kept adjusting my eyes and smile in front of the mirror... until my laughing muscles twitched and my shoulders became numb. "I am the protagonist," I kept encouraging myself, "so I have to do my best."

Finally, it's the last day.

Put on your most beautiful dress and step onto the stage amidst thunderous applause. Standing in the center of the stage, the chasing light above my head shone on my face, which was so dazzling that it blurred my vision. My cheeks were slightly hot, my palms were slightly sweaty, and I could clearly feel my legs shaking. I took a breath and told myself: "I am the protagonist, I can do it." Then I slowly raised the microphone, raised my most standard smile, straightened my body, and heard my own voice echoing in the venue, with lingering echoes.

That time, I was the protagonist, and I succeeded.

That time, I was the protagonist_Junior high school writing essay 800 words (2)

I often fall into struggle, when the development of the situation is determined by me alone.

It was just an ordinary afternoon. After the five long main classes in the morning, we flew towards the lovely white building of the "canteen" like birds breaking free from their shackles, chirping and laughing all the way.

The five of us were squeezed into the four seats next to the plastic dining table. Friends who usually hang out with each other get together and talk freely, but for some reason they talk about my voice: "Every time you answer a question, your voice always gives me goosebumps." ..." The last note suddenly stopped, and the friend who had been talking a moment ago pursed his lips in panic, and secretly sent a signal for help to others from the corner of his eye. However, everyone looked at each other, uneasily peeping at my suddenly gloomy expression.

I tried hard to swallow the sourness in my mouth, and pretended to smile in vain: "I'm fine." However, the surroundings were still dead silent, and the noisy noise could not cover up the timid eyes of my friends. The meal was bland. On the way back, I remained silent, my lowered eyes scanning the expressions of my friends who were hesitant to speak, but finally gave up speaking under the many probing and uneasy projections.

Naturally, I was also suffering in my heart: this was just an unintentional act by a friend. Why worry about everything and put your friend in such an embarrassing situation? However, the thoughts in my heart cannot be transformed into external actions, and there is still a nameless resentment in my chest that is blocked, and the harsh joke sticks to the shell of my ears like a awn on my back.

So surrounded by five people, I walked into the class door in strange silence. After that, the mind was absent-minded, like a lump in the throat. But during the break, when one person was secretly savoring the bitter taste, he happened to catch a glimpse of a wrinkled photo kept in his pencil case. The five people in the photo still have a childish look on their faces, but they are still young and carefree. Their smiles are too bright, and they are holding hands and making faces towards the camera. As soon as I thought about it, the beautiful and wanton memories of the past came overwhelmingly, and the hard knot in my heart had a chance to be shattered just because of this small opportunity. I searched for my friend's figure with my eyes, and found that the person was always looking at my position. When my eyes met, I suddenly curved in relief, and her flattered look and figure running towards me were reflected in my pupils. Friends scattered throughout the classroom also swarmed up, with a huge momentum like ants swarming out. The scene was a bit interesting, but there was a real feeling in the heart.

They have been paying attention to my every move, when I was entangled in resentment, when I refused to forgive easily, and when I finally learned to be tolerant.

I became the protagonist who defeated myself, and I had their cooperation and cheers. Only this time, Yuan You was deeply rooted in his life.