The American School in Japan 7th Grade Student

It was at the end of the school day. I was sitting in my band class with about 35 of my peers. At the front of the room was our teacher, who enthusiastically taught us about the sousaphone. The walls began to shake. The students exchanged confused looks. The ground was shaking. We quickly tucked our bodies beneath our chairs, watching as the ceiling swung. Beneath my feet, I could feel the earth groaning. After the shaking stopped, we quickly evacuated to the main field, where the rest of the school was waiting. We had done earthquake drills earlier in the year, which allowed smooth evacuation. On the field, the tall pine tree (that had been there for decades) began to tilt almost to a horizontal stance. The sky was grey, and my friends who evacuated straight from swim class shivering in the march coldness. Nobody knew what was going on. Personally, I didn't realize the magnitude of this earthquake - that people north were running from tsunamis and that nuclear power plants were panicking over hydrogen explosions. That people were dying. Nobody knew. The cellular lines were shut down, and it was impossible to contact anybody, besides a few. Those were the people who had iphones, and were able to access social media sources such as twitter and facebook. Our school decided to send the students home on the school bus. The regular one hour ride took about nine hours. The streets were crowded with cars and people. Out the window I could see lines of office workers going home together with helmets. Our bus took a brief bathroom break at a convenience store. Though I didn't go myself, the lines extended outside the stores. My brother and I got home in the early morning. When we turned on the TV and watched the news, that was the first time I realized what was going on.