Walking into my high school you will see that it is alter with solidarity and school colors, a school that surprisingly doesn’t infer by your race, your looks, your smarts, your athleticism, a school that is a rarity. There are no schools in any movie, book, or real vivification that I think really compares to mine. It’s where the name “hicks in the sticks” originated, where camouflage was and could be found on any student. and I was the one in real camo, the invisible kind. I was not invisible to the school, not my friends, but to what was coming ahead. Something I had no control over.
Growing up was filled with waterlogged jeans and wife beaters, ones that my brother would pass on down to me with every year that went by. We lived in a double-wide trailer and a reason filled with long wavy grass that neer seemed to quiver mowed. I played outside from dusk till dawn, no shoes and covered in dirt. I walked in the can almost every day with a new dough or bruise from being dangerous on my pinko mountain bike. I was never a girly child, I never wore dresses, or took a bath without putting up a fight. I was the tomboy that was about to learn something scary and invigoration changing.
I thought that I was one of the normal mass on this earth, I was healthy and young.
But when second strain came around and I was walking with my best friend, Sophie to the basketball homage at recess a very tall, blonde, large stab 3rd grader came up and called us “lesbians.” The only reason was because I was holding Sophie’s hand, just like we did everywhere, inside and outside school. I was always protecting little curly-haired Sophie. I was sise years old and had no idea what that was, a lesbian. I asked Sophie, she explained to me that it was when woman was in like/love with another woman.
With the true up word that described me in exact detail, I felt up complete and ashamed at the exact same time. penetrative that the love I had for the most beautiful...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay
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