Inside, Outside, side step, back step!

Once upon a time, forever and a day ago, I was thirteen. Enter, the first day of Public School. It was a mad-house, much like the crazy circus-fair grounds that you see in movies. Everything is twisted and contoured, and everything that comes out of your mouth is somehow wrong. There was orchestra, where the teacher Mrs. Wilson assumed that I hated violinists and any classical pieces beause I mentioned Norah Jones; there was my science class, where my peers thought I was a crazed loon because I disagreed with the evolution theory; and . . . such and such.
It happened all throughout public school, because people seemed to expect the very worst in everything that happened. Simple questions were posed to be insults. Simple comments turned to blatant accusations. And . . . yes.

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