I guess my earliest memories of life would have to be kindergarten. Wow five years old was so long ago, seems so distant from life today. I was a very brave girl. Adventure was never far away and expression came naturally, school was not a challenge. Being with my peers was rewarding enough but excelling amongst them gave me a self-pride that was glorifying and intoxicating, today was my peak. I was the only student to earn a golden star. I had answered every single question correctly. From colors to shapes, letters to numbers, even my city, state name, and address, I can still feel the satisfaction and confidence as I walked to the head of the class. I was sure I knew everything there was to know in life after all I practiced
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With that thought I quickly switched on the light and drew my bath. Sitting in the water there was no happiness, no joy at watching the bubbles float by, no songs with my little pony, only silence. Today would be my last day being me, my last day trusting without doubt. Today something so precious was stolen from me; it could never return or be recovered.
Later that evening everyone returned from the hospital and my brother was fine, they were all bouncing around the house like normal. They did not see the change, I was different, oddly a bit more mature, and my world was not the same. After dinner I must have been acting really strange, mother noticed I was quiet and withdrawn, she questioned my mood. As we sat side by side on the sofa I placed my head on her soft warm frame, this gave me a bit of relief. I knew I could not tell her the events that took place because something bad was sure to happen. I loved my mother and I did not want anything bad to happen to her.
Through sobs of guilt and fear I muttered “there is a monster in the bed”
Unknowing to what or who the monster was, she gently held me in her arms and whispered “monsters aren’t real honey. Monsters are only in your
With that thought I quickly switched on the light and drew my bath. Sitting in the water there was no happiness, no joy at watching the bubbles float by, no songs with my little pony, only silence. Today would be my last day being me, my last day trusting without doubt. Today something so precious was stolen from me; it could never return or be recovered.
Later that evening everyone returned from the hospital and my brother was fine, they were all bouncing around the house like normal. They did not see the change, I was different, oddly a bit more mature, and my world was not the same. After dinner I must have been acting really strange, mother noticed I was quiet and withdrawn, she questioned my mood. As we sat side by side on the sofa I placed my head on her soft warm frame, this gave me a bit of relief. I knew I could not tell her the events that took place because something bad was sure to happen. I loved my mother and I did not want anything bad to happen to her.
Through sobs of guilt and fear I muttered “there is a monster in the bed”
Unknowing to what or who the monster was, she gently held me in her arms and whispered “monsters aren’t real honey. Monsters are only in your