My first day of school. I really didn’t understand what this meant. My mom lacked an imagination due to life duress and just assumed I “KNEW” what school was. I was basically a ferral child. The only child of a severely depressed and overwhelmed single mother I was rarely spoken to gently or touched. I understand. I have children now too. Sometimes life feels to big for you to survive it let alone you and your child. But I learned to stay away. so I spent a lot of time playing by myself in the backyard, out on the terrace, in the front garden, in my own room with the small fat red dictionary — my mother’s pride and joy.

First off, I was awakened in the morning at some insane hour I wasn’t even aware existed because according to everything I had known right up until that point in my REALITY it was nighttime when it was dark outside. How could I have gone to sleep at night only to be awakened and told it was time to go to school still at night. Huh?!

Wait, what? Oh, it’s daytime? But it’s so dark and I’m still sleepy. My body says I want to be in bed and wait for the sun to tell me it’s time to get up. This was already turning out to be an undesirable realization. And I figured it couldn’t get any worse. But OMG! WTF! I was so FUCKING WRONG!

The second thing that happened on this upside down inside out day is that my hair was combed into BUNS! I always had short wild hair as a child. Not sure why, I wasn’t making those decisions at the time, but I liked it. I liked my hair short and wild. But on this day a hard sharp object called a COMB, which by the way has always seem like a torture device to me and I had managed to avoid with the instinctual acuity only a child could possess, was viciously brought to my tangled mane.

Holy Shit! What did I do!? Why are you waking me up early to comb my hair for?! I hate both of these things! I’ve done nothing to deserve this! I was growing absolutely indignant at this point in this totally unexpected new experience. Shit, I’ve made a grave mistake! I realized in horror. I didn’t know the “First Day of School” meant this that’s currently happening. Now that I know, I would like to choose again please.

Nope. That didn’t seem to be an option. Seems as if regardless of how much I resisted, my mom was absolutely determined to take me to school today. Looking at myself in the mirror with the two slicked down buns on either side of my head just above my elvin ears! Grotesque! Who would do that? It’s so unbalanced! It’s appalling.

I flat out refused. I refused to leave the house looking like this. I kicked and screamed that day. I put up the good fight. I hissed. I spat. I cursed. I was being dragged off to prison without a choice. I screamed. I hit. I fought. She handed me to the teacher who held me down. She tried to shame me for my behavior.

I didn’t care. But she left me there that day. An entire day away from home. I couldn’t bare it. I cried silent bitter tears of hate and I undid my hair.