The First and Last Time

I threw my flabby arms in the air. "NOOO! I DONT WANNA GO!!" Could you blame me? Who would wanna be stuck in a tight room with a bunch of sticky, no good five year olds? "Sweetie, we really don't have time for this. come on." My mother reached for my seat belt. No way was I letting her her get me that easily. "OUCH! SHE BIT ME! MARK, SHE BIT ME!" What? it wasn't like I was some type of animal with rabies. It was harmless. "oh god, you're bleeding. Magellyn, I'll give you three seconds. Get out this car and go to school!" Jeez. couldn't my father have some heart? I was five. But, I didn't put up a fight. you don't fight with dad. I slouched into the hellhole, ready to be drained of my energy.

As soon as I was about to taste freedom- "Hey. I'm Izzi. Wanna be friends?" who does this blond haired, slobbery, fat five year old think she is? I wrinkled my nose at her, and politely said, "No."

Jeez. the principal's office was surprisingly small. Or maybe it was because Izzi's mother was obese. Either way, she was a real cry baby. I honestly never wanted to see that chunky face again. She got me grounded! "Missy, I don't know what has gotten into you lately, but I'll make sure something like this doesn't happen again. No TV for two weeks!" Oh, darn you and your good parenting skills, mother! I flopped onto what would now be my only comfort for two weeks. how could she do this? my sixth birthday was a month away. Plus, the intelligence at my age should have been enough for them to believe me. I was their daughter, not Izzi! How unfair life was. And all because of that brat. I filled up with anger. I was burning. Dad had told me when I felt like that, I should write down my feelings. So I did. it was surprising how many bad words five year old me knew. I felt better. But it still was there. Now, you may be asking, how come a five year old felt like she wanted to kill an elephant over something as minor as a girl trying to be friends with her? good question. you see, I didn't like people. I still don't. So of course, I didn't have any friends. I was too smart to fall into imaginary friends, and my parents wouldn't let me get a pet. So I stuck to Television. I loved it! Everyday, after school, I would sit down, at least three feet from it, and binge Tom and Jerry. Life was great. I didn't feel lonely. My favorite show was Dora. Probably because she "talked to me". She was my best friend. My 7th birthday was Dora themed. But without TV, I couldn't watch Dora. She took away the one thing I enjoyed. You may say I'm being dramatic, but this was a big deal for five year old me. This meant war. I hated her. I wished that was the first and last time I saw her. And it was.

Or so I thought.

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