Prose: "The Last Step Forward"

The Last Step Forward

Erik Shrestha

Dear Old Friend,

I never thought I’d miss you this much. Back then, I was too busy rushing through the days, counting down to the end. I never realized how much you were quietly giving me—friendship, lessons, love, and moments that would stay long

after I left your gates.

You gave me friends, right from that very first day. I remember how you welcomed my small, trembling steps through the big gate. I was crying when the teacher gently took me from my parents' hands. But then I saw the playground—so vast, so alive—and somehow, it made me stop crying. I wonder if you still remember the footprints of each child who

once walked through your gates? Or do we fade, like footprints in the snow, once we leave?

You’ve seen me at my best—the time I ranked first in sixth grade, glowing with pride, strangers congratulating me. And you’ve seen me at my worst—the day I bunked class and got caught, heart racing with guilt. You've taught me the courage to love, the strength to be a better friend, the resilience to be a better person. You’ve watched me cry in the classroom and stand up to the bullies. You’ve seen me stumble—cheat, even—and you’ve seen me fail.

I ran in your fields every single day for fifteen years. And somewhere between those races, I grew up. On my last day, I

turned back one final time, and it hit me all at once—like my whole life flashing before my eyes.

I may have walked in with a water bottle swinging across my tummy and a hand guiding me into the classroom, but I left with some irreplaceable friends, favorite teachers who shaped me, and a thousand stories I’ll keep forever.  I entered school crying, and I left it crying—only this time, the tears meant something different. 

On my first day, I was begging my parents not to leave me, clutching their hands like they'd never return. And on my last day, I was begging my friends not to let me go, holding on just as tightly, afraid of what life would feel like without them beside me. I cried not to enter those big gates once, and years later, I cried just as hard knowing I had to walk out of them for good. Funny how the same place that once felt so unfamiliar became the hardest to say goodbye to. Funny.

Because of you, I met friends who became a part of me—people who still feel close, no matter how far life has taken us: different cities, different countries, different time zones. Now, semesters pile up, assignments never seem to end, and getting an internship feels like a storm I wasn’t ready for. Looking back, those parent-teacher meetings, annual exams, and results day feel so light compared to the weight of growing up.

Thank you for being my beginning. I miss you—maybe a little more today, maybe a little more tomorrow, and perhaps a little more every day after that.

From,

An old student

Judge's Notes:

“With first-person POV, it’s imperative the writer elevates the singular voice into a universal voice. What is so striking about this story is the emotional resonance that we all can relate to. While reading this story, I was transported back to my school days and the teachers who touched me, who watched over me, and who inspired me to chase my dreams, knowing it would be hard work, knowing there would be many days I would crash in failure, but also believing I had the fortitude to pick myself back up again. The writer of this beautiful, touching story maintains perfect control throughout, inviting the reader to join them and to make this story their own.”