Thread: Through The Eyes of A Dreamer

I'll start back at the beginning, now. That is usually the best place to start a story. I don't remember a whole lot of things from my childhood. Bits and pieces here and there. My earliest memory is of my Granddaddy. When I was a baby, he would sit in my play pen with me, cause I hated it. We would play cards and I was one of the two people he allowed to take candy from his candy drawer. The other was my older cousin Shannon. Every morning, my granddaddy would pull the covers off of me, then sit out on the porch and sing as loud as he could until I woke up. He passed away when I was only three. My parents divorced when I was five. I don't remember a lot of it, but that's probably for the best. My father followed the rest of his family to Kentucky a few years later, and thus began my yearly, 6 hour car ride to see him. I have three sisters and a brother now. My dad remarried several years ago, and they had my little brother Robert and my little sister Tabitha. Melissa was born when I was three, before the divorce. And Sidney was born a few years after the divorce. Her father is someone I will probably never talk about in here. I hated him. And I still do. School. The first school I remember was a horrible school. The class had been divided in half. One half of the students got to sit in the best part of the classroom. It was very colorful and their teacher was sweet. they had naps and snack time and all sorts of fun things. I was one of the unfortunate ones. The part of the room we were in was separate from the other by a long, ugly red drape. The lighting was dim, and the floors were wooden and bare. There was no real color to the room. Plain walls...and a teacher I can barely remember. Mom pulled me out of that school before the end of the year and I was transferred to another school. I made it through the next couple years alright. alright. I was quite and shy, but I managed to make a few friends. It was around third grade that things started to change. That's when I got my first pair of glasses. I clearly remember being called four eyes and almost bursting out in tears, until my best friend stepped in and yelled at the other girl, pulling me away from her. I was still picked on a lot, but I had been picked on before I got my glasses, so I guess things didn't change too much. In fourth grade, my mother transferred me to a catholic school. She thought I would get a better education there. I didn't. It was actually worse for me there. The kids picked on me more, and I had a hard time making friends. That school was turned into a middle school and I was transferred to another catholic school for a year. That school was even worse than the last one. The principal was an evil nun, though my first teacher was very sweet. She was a younger lady, and left halfway through the school leave to have her baby. After that things really went downhill. We had another teacher, but he stopped coming. He lived in Canada and was having a hard time getting across every day. We had an elderly lady after that, and I hated her. All we really did every day was English. There was very little math or science. Finally, she quit, and left. And the class was overjoyed. The elderly man who taught us for the rest of the year was very kind, and made sure we did a lot more than English. After that, I went back to the previous catholic school. The next three years were a nightmare for me. I had very few friends, and was quieter than I had ever been. The others picked on me on a daily basis High school. This is where everything changed. The first year was the hardest for me. I got lost a few times, having come from a little, one floor school with a total of 100 people, including staff. After the first year, I joined beginning band and advanced to concert the year after. I changed a lot in those two years. And I thank my band director for a lot of it. If he had never encouraged me to join...who knows what I would be like right now. I met a lot of amazing people in that school, and in that room alone I grew quite a bit. I finally came out of the shell I had been hiding in for so long, trying to protect myself....afraid of what others would think of the me that had been buried deep in there. My senior year was the best. I had come quite a long way. I was still quiet, but I had become a little more outgoing. I was a little more...me. I've been in college for two years now, and I've come even further...with a lot of help, of course. My friends are quite amazing, and my boyfriend even more so. We haven't been together very long, but I knew him for almost two years before he finally confessed to me how he felt-though I knew about it from day one. I was just waiting for him... I think I'll end this here for today...