The first memory that I can recognize in my life is conflict. The first specific memory that calls to mind is pinpointed between 2004 to 2006.

It was the morning of the first day in junior kindergarten, my mom had struggled to wake me and when she finally did, I was exceedingly testy. I had managed to sit and stand up, whilst my mom put socks on my small feet and brushed my hair accordingly, as I would cry out if she wasn't gentle.

When I would come across a piece of clothing or a unique object that I was fond of, I would wear said clothing/bring said object with me regularly. While my mom was helping put the pants on that I'd deemed "my favourite," of that month, we realized that they didn't fit me anymore. For whatever reason, I was unable to cope with this, and the discovery led me into a fit of tears, in which I collapsed in my mother's lap and wailed until I fell asleep.

She did not wake me because I had made it feel as though it were her fault the pants didn't fit. She couldn't bear to wake me only to see liquid fragments of my heart spill out of my eyes, when instead, she could sit here and hold my peaceful, sleeping body in that precious moment in time that I'm sure she still remembers. Prior to falling asleep, in the midst of my cries, I recall this exact thought filtering through my head.

"Everything is ruined. This ruins everything. If I can't wear these pants today, I can't go to school."

And right after that, I begged my mom, a piercing cry that I can hear vividly in my mind.

"Please let me stay home today. I'll do anything, just let me stay home today, mommy."

I missed the first day of my junior kindergarten school year. As well as the second, third, fourth, and so on.

I quickly developed an attendance issue and I was spiraling downwards fast. Every day was a challenge for me at the age of 5, and it wasn't long before I was introduced to Social Services, though I can't recall her name, her hair was brown, she was approximately 5 ft. tall, and she was truly kind to me. For some time, I had no issues going to school and wanting to be there. This was because if I wasn't there, this woman would arrive at my house with a car to escort me.

I didn't see anything wrong with the situation, in all honesty, I thought this woman was my friend on some level. She would sit on a bench beside the playground at Our Lady of Fatima School, and she would observe my behaviour and discuss it with another worker she'd brought along. I would actually go up to them and say with genuine pride.

"Look! I'm at school! Aren't you proud of me?"

She would always smile and nod in response. There were quite a few nice moments between her and I, sometimes we would simply sit in a quiet room and talk about anything that I wanted to talk about, and I didn't have to talk at all if I didn't wish to.

Eventually, Social Services no longer felt that I was in need of their assistance, so I didn't see the woman anymore. She stopped coming to my school, I remember that it just happened one day. I didn't say goodbye to her, and I didn't see her again.

For some reason, that hurt me.

She was kind to me and she put effort into me, and she suddenly wasn't there anymore. I was forced to deal with her being placed into my life unwillingly, as well as being pried out of it.

Though, I started attending school on a regular basis for a period of time after that, and I was always eager to make friends. The friends that I managed to make only befriended me to ridicule me throughout the day, however, I was so eager to make friends, I was convinced that it was alright to feel that way. I was only allowed to be around them at certain times in the day, and when I was around them, they would mock everything that I said and did.

I remember this specific moment when we were all standing around what appeared to be a very deep puddle, and Kate told me to put my hand in it and see how deep it truly was. Without any hesitation, I dove my hand into the puddle and flinched when it hit an unexpectedly shallow dirt floor. One of the girls seen this reaction and asked me.

"Did something just bite you?"

I quickly arranged my thoughts and found myself agreeing.

"Yes! Something bit me, it really hurt. I don't know what it was, but it had very sharp teeth. Something really bit me!"

After I said those words, I remember feeling a pit in my stomach. I had disappointed myself, I lied about the stupidest thing, and I lied for their approval. I feared what they would have said had I simply said, "no."

This was a realization that I came to as the bell rang and I was walking towards the building alongside them. I had just realized this friendship wasn't what I wanted nor deserved.

In time, I found a friend named Abby, and I'll always remember her. She was kind to me, she never passed judgement on me, and she even stood up for me. She would always share her food because I didn't always have food, she even helped me with my work in class.

She truly cared for me, and the reason I love Abby is because you could see love in Abby's eyes all the time. One time, I seen her cry when she hurt her knee falling off of the play structure, and I can still feel that one look of sadness I'd ever seen on my best friend's face break my heart a little. She was a genuinely happy girl, and I believe that I needed that around.

But eventually time moved on and so did I, kindergarten became grade 4 and I had to wish my dearest friend farewell. I remember telling Abby that I was moving, she was sad that I was leaving, but she was happy I would get to make more friends. She realized how important making friends was to me, and I believe she also recognized that I struggled with doing so. Maybe that's why she befriended me in the first place, but all I can say is that I'm thankful for her, even though she's gone now, it gives me hope that there are people just like Abby and I, who just want to show their kindness and spirit to others, and connect with them.

A/N: An actual photo of myself at age 5 is included as the chapter cover.