Published November 15, 2007
On December 2nd, 2002, I was eight. I was standing on a playground, alone. I watched when I hit the ball, how it flew around faster and faster, then it wound itself back up again.
When I was a child, I was different. I wasn't stupid, I just followed the beat of my own drum. Many kids made fun of me, even though I had not done anything what-so-ever to them. I think school children as just like that though.
The first time I ever cared what someone said about me, or said to me, at all was in fourth grade. For the first time in my life, I wasn't a loner. I thought it was cool, until I started to see the social pyrimid in action.
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