It was the beginning of 2017. A new year, with a new beginning. All starting with me, a little boy trying to get into a fancy private school because it was his dream. Even though, I remember feeling like I had no chance because why me of all people, should get into a school like Malvern.
I remember the following weeks as if they had happened a few days ago. I remember the 25 minute ride to get to 418 S Warren Ave, Malvern, PA 19355. I remember the bends, the turns, the little hills that make you feel like your stomach is in your throat. All of this misery, was just to take a 3 and a half hour test. Who wanted to take a test on a Sunday? I know I wouldn’t! Especially, since the fact that I had taken the PSAT the day before, but this was not just any type of test. I had felt that this test would decide my fate. That fate would decide my career, and that career could decide whether or not I’ll be successful in life.
All of this, riding on a single test; it was a dream being contained in a box, holding darkness or hope, evil or righteousness. I walked into that classroom, feeling confident about what I could accomplish, and maybe, someday, that dream may come true, that classroom would be mine.
“Okay students take a seat at any desk, we will now begin the exam.” The Proctor said, with a genial tone in his voice.
All the chatter and noise came to a halt. Even though his voice was soft, it still shook the room with vigour, and a silence took over all of us, yet it did not feel like any type of silence. This silence was deadly. Ready to be the cause of death for 18 dreams.
Throughout that test we remained silent. Every few minutes or so there was someone who needed a bathroom break. Nobody really needed to use the bathroom unless they were a nervous pee-er. These breaks were needed to calm down. In fact, some people, including Logan Deconti and I, took these breaks to talk to someone to calm our nerves. I remember we would talk about where we were from, who our favorite sports team was, and why we wanted to go to Malvern Prep in the first place. I remember one kid, he was from St. Anastasia, and he was in the same situation I was in, not having enough money and in desperate need of a good scholarship. We bonded, and became friends. In fact, we even sat together after the whole test was over.
Then, out of nowhere, the words everybody was desperate for, came out of the proctors mouth, “Okay! Test takers, please put down your pencils, and fold your answer sheets into the test booklet. I will come around to collect each test. Once they are all collected, you may head to Stewart Hall and eat your lunch.”
As soon as the word “lunch” came out of his mouth, everyone became a hungry lion ready to feast on whatever it could find. After lunch, once everybody started to calm down my mom took me home at 1:45 p.m. I remember being so jubilant on the ride home, that I didn't even feel those weird hills, and the awkward feeling of your stomach being in your throat.
The weeks passed before I got a letter back saying whether or not I was accepted, and if I had gotten a scholarship. However, I believe it was exactly one month after the test that I had received the letter. I remember opening the envelope scared and hopeless, yet excited and proud.
“Mom! I got accepted,” I said, as I was scanning the letter for a scholarship, “I also got a scholarship!” I was gleaming, my smile spreading from ear to ear, yet I still could not grasp the idea of being accepted to my dream school!
Maybe dreams do come true after all.