I remember the green grass, the blue sky, the children who ran and played with a care. They had no worries. They didn’t worry about the cold, or the dark, or where their next meal was. They worried about being tagged, or getting dirty in their nice clothes. Wish I had some clothes like them. Polo’s all ironed, jeans with no holes. I can’t help but examine the dirt smudges on my own clothes. They dance like wild children, but they are happy. Happiness is one thing I can’t say I have.

The school bell rings, and I press my face against the chain link fence, wising I could run inside with all of them. They drop their jump ropes and forget about games of hide and seek. They run to the well dressed lady at the steps of the school house. She looks so nice. Soft eyes and soft hair. A big white smile. She gathers them around her and they all call out to her. She takes them indoors, and they leave me behind. I feel sadness well up in my throat. I am not good enough. Not good enough for school, or the lady, or even the games.

I run from the school. I can’t see where I’m going, I’m crying to hard. I rub my eyes with my hands and crouch behind a bush. I don’t want people to see me crying. The older kids, who don’t go to school for another ten minutes, will laugh at me. They will point and call me names like “Baby!” or “Idiot”. I know this will be my life, forever. Forever is a long time, someone once told me. I am forever.