“Mom, I’m scared and I don’t know where to go” I had said.
“You get your butt back to school right now!”
“But, I don’t know which room is my classroom, and I’m scared”
It was the first day of school for me, I was only five years old. I had left for school in the morning with my siblings. I believe one of them showed me which way to go for my classroom, but, I was scared to death when the bell rang and at all the chaos that the first day of school had brought with it. My brothers and sisters found their way to their assigned classroom, leaving me alone on the school grounds. I froze. I did not know which way to go. It looked like such an enormous school ground full of pushing and shoving.
There were mothers there, showing their kindergarteners which way to go, giving them kisses by the door. So, out of desperation I thought the only thing I could do was walk back home, which was only up the street and around the corner and ask for help from my mom.
“I don’t care, just walk back the way you came and get back to school now!” Bang! Went the door as mother slammed it in my face.
Feeling scared and all alone, I walked back to school crying not knowing what to do.
I was sitting out in the schoolyard still sobbing when a teacher noticed me and asked me what my name was. “Don’t worry or cry” said the teacher, “we will find where you need to be.”
It was a very hard time for me to understand the ins and outs of school. What class you were in at what time and how to deal with the bully’s. But, in all of the confusion I was considered very bright (it was only kindergarten after all 
) and did my classwork with great ease.
One day the teacher even came to the house personally and talked to my mom. “Your daughter is doing great in school; she is like a fish in water!” For some reason this did not seem to please my mother. For some reason I do not think my mother cared whether I was even part of the family. Yet, I went my way and ignored this fact.
Until, in the future, my life was just starting to reveal more heartaches to come.
