Memories

I have vague memories, but in the end, these things happened, didn't they?

Among my memories are that, at the age of four, I practiced ballet, nothing more...

My parents say that I always liked to dance, I danced at all the family gatherings, in fact, there are pictures, so I guess it's true.

Since I was 5 years old I felt strange, I did not feel as attracted to children as I was expected to be, I remember that there was a boy named Diego, he was the prettiest boy in kindergarten, what if I liked him? Of course I did! But just as I liked him, there were other girls who liked him, like Antonella, wow...she did like him; but, what can I say, she was the prettiest and I think what was expected was that she was Diego's kindergarten girlfriend, I mean, cute ones are always attracted, right?

Another important thing that happened to me was that my mom was pregnant with my sister Nicky, who would ruin my life on multiple occasions, but would also be the person who would understand me the most when I went through what I went through and in my love crises.

Well... let's move on to my six years of age.

What do I remember? That I was a fan of the Wild Force Power Rangers, I loved them, in fact, I had a slight obsession with the yellow power ranger, Taylor; she was blonde, blue eyes, fair complexion, beautiful... The funny thing about this? I wanted to be her, so I started changing my name on the tests she was giving.

Yeah... that was me, a weird little girl who dreamt she had powers.

Funnier story than that?

Easy, one day I fell asleep in the middle of class and suddenly I screamed...

Yes...

I screamed and very loudly.

I remember my classmates and my teacher looking at me funny because of that, but what can I tell you, that's how I was born.

Shall I tell you something funny that happened that same year?

My mom got pregnant again, and, this time I remember I passed out and showed up at the clinic when my mom was having an ultrasound... so the next year my brother Patrick would be born, who would pull out more than one gray hair from my parents.

Well... we'd better get on with my seven years.

I remember that at that age I was moved from one school to another for the fourth time. I hoped that this would be the last one, I mean, nobody should change schools so much at such a young age, but I understand that my parents did it because at that time our economy was not so good that we say, but well, as I was saying; at my 7 years old and in a new school, I hoped to make new friends and fast, thank God, it was never difficult for me to make friends, I have always been very sociable, but big was my coincidence when I met Diego again, and his best friend too.

In this school I spent great moments, from the moment I entered until I left, here I discovered a lot about myself, things that I didn't think would happen to me, but that happened anyway.

The truth is that here I will gather several years, because I do not know to what extent I had a certain age and then I passed to another, but what I do remember is that, from my 7 years until 9 I had the same teacher.

Something that marked me at the age of 6 and 8 was that, at the age of 6, the father of a classmate made me move from my house to school and vice versa, until one day he decided to sit me on his lap... with the excuse of wanting to teach me to drive, and of course, touching my legs he would teach me to drive his car.

When I was 8 years old, he was the guy who worked in the internet booth, I remember that his son was a good person, but his dad was not, he also wanted to do the same to me, but the difference was that I ran out to my house, which fortunately was close, and when I arrived I just called the police, the rest is...history.

At this same age I had to warn a classmate in my living room that my partner's father, who by the way, was the same one who made me mobile at 6, was making my partner mobile at that time. I felt it was my responsibility to warn her about what she tried to do to me, so when I told her and my mom told her mom, they were able to change her mobility so nothing bad would happen to her.

Continuing my story...

It must have been when I was 9 when I had my third fight... you might wonder why I'm talking about this one without telling you about the previous two... Well... I'll tell you since you want to know so much.

My first fight was not like that, but I remember there were other kids I already knew from another school, in this one... for now I will only talk about one, let's call him Omar

Omar was a fat kid, so I'm going to lie, he was very fat for his age; he was a stalker, to sum it up.

I remember that at that break, recess or whatever you want to call it, Omar couldn't think of a better idea than to hit the new one, so as you can imagine, I got beaten up for no reason, I remember well that he hit me in my private parts, and I couldn't hit him back because they had me pinned down among several classmates, if you could even call them that.

My second fight was also with him, but... what do you think, this time it was me who hit him.

It was already night, there was a parents' meeting, so my parents went with me, and given the occasion, Omar's mother went with him and his younger sister.

To put it in context, my mom has a difficulty, but as she says, it's not an impediment to doing all the things she does, so what do you think Omar did when he realized what my mom had?

Yes... mock.

If there's one thing that I can't allow, or tolerate, it's that my mother be mocked, or my parents be talked about, or my family be talked about, because like I always say,

The problems I have with them will never mean that I allow anyone to hurt them.

So, when I heard Omar making fun of my mother, I had no choice but to shut his mouth.

How did I do that?

Beat him up.

I shoved him and he fell to the floor, then I hit him in front of his little sister, and I said:

"You talk about my mom again, it's gonna get worse."

Yeah... it was a bit rude, but I had to do it, I wasn't going to let him pick on me again and leave me, was I?

But, I have to tell you, from then on, he stopped hitting me or picking on me.

Now, yes, let's get back to my third fight, but first I have to clear something up for you.

I was never a troublemaker or a fighter, I was just defending myself.

So...

My third fight was with some girls in my living room, Karen and Zoe, wow, because I hated Karen, Zoe was nicer, but... Karen made her a bad person.

I don't remember as much as I thought, but I know that I hit Zoe because she was defending me, that's all... and that's how I got my first ballot; I remember my mom fighting with the director to get me out of that ballot.

When I told you it was my first ticket, you can imagine there were others...

Here I want to stop, because I would like to say that my mom is great, she is an inspiring person because she has never let anything stop her, knowing that she could excuse herself with her problem, she doesn't.

Well... I'll leave the corny for a moment.

So... My ten years, right?

That was a different year, Karen and I became friends, I played the bottle drunk, we changed teachers to one we disliked, Karen and I hated.

My 11 years were the ones that gave way to who I am now, a new girl came into my classroom, she was tall, pretty, wore glasses, she was rebellious. She brought out the real me, brought out my personality, but also strengthened my taste for women I didn't know I had.

This girl's name is Sandra, and she had red hair.

I remember I was crazy about her way of being, she drove me crazy, but I also liked how she took me out of my comfort zone, she got me excited every time she heard me say a rude word and I never understood why.

I also remember that, for Halloween, or Halloween night, whatever you want to call it, I dressed up as 'my beautiful genius'; it was for a costume party at my cousin's friend's house. At that party my cousin's friend's parents found a rat in the bathroom and people got scared and ran away.

That was very funny (hahaha).

This year I also had my first prom, it was kind of weird, all the girls had to go with the same color dress; we did a dance choreography and presented it for our parents; the food we were served was horrible, and the worst thing is that everyone had chosen the most expensive dish.

I remember well that year, the French teacher who hated me so much, started to love me a little.

It was a good year.

Then came my 12 years. It's at this age that I met a girl who became a great friend to me over time; her name is Carolina, and in case you're wondering, yes, we're still friends.

At this age I had my first boyfriend, of course it didn't last long, because he had told Karen to be his girlfriend at the same time as me, and when I found out about it, I broke up with him.

Although he was my first kiss, I have to say that it was bad, to be honest, it was the worst kiss I ever had in my life, and I know I was too young to know that, but, when you know, you know.

That same year, my French teacher also became my language teacher, and it turned out that I went from being the best student in math, to being the best student in language.

At the age of 13, my life took a complete turn, my parents were so badly off that I had to change schools, once again.

The truth is, I wouldn't know how to thank life that my parents had to do it, because it's at this school that I met the best people who could have put me on my path.

I remember that I didn't want to change schools, I already had my friends of years, a life with them, I did my primary school promotion with them, but I realized that, everything in this life changes, and as things come, they also go.

I entered this new school, in the late shift, because there was no room in the morning, so... there was no other school left.

I became friends with Ricardo, he was my first friend here.

He had the same tastes as me in series, in old music, he had style in dressing, plus, it was great to talk to someone with whom I had a lot in common.

I'm going to stop for a moment to tell you that where I live, almost every school wears a uniform, so when I walked into this one, I was wearing a long skirt and a headband that held my hair up so it wouldn't stand up (hahaha), not to mention the typical white blouse with a pocket, which had the school badge on it.

No offense, but... she looked like a nun.

It was thanks to my mother that I decided to change my look the next day, I pulled up the seam on my skirt and left the headband at home, although the latter did not like my mother, she had to accept it because I was already growing up.

At that time, I had a tie that, to be very honest, was horrible (hahaha), because it was with a garter, it was very ugly; but as I said, I could not demand much because there was no money and we did what we could with the little we had.

I remember very well that year I told my mom that my math teacher didn't make class, she just sat around and left us a card with exercises to solve without even explaining the subject, so my mom decided to go to school to complain; I'll tell you here, the teaching you receive in a private school is different from that of a state or national school, since the teaching in private schools is superior; so, when my mom complained, a teacher from another class, the religion teacher, soon started sending me hints in class and that made me very angry.

Do you remember when I told you that I didn't like my family being messed with?

This teacher did that.

I remember she started talking about my parents, she started talking about my mom, making allusions that I shouldn't have, and all in the form of a hint.

I exploded.

I told her that I wasn't going to let her take any hints that they didn't have anything like that in front of my classmates, that I wasn't going to let her disrespect my parents like that, much less in front of me. She was only right to say that she wasn't, and that if I had a problem with her I should tell her.

What do you think I did?

Obviously, I told her that I had a problem with her because of her lack of professionalism, that the problem my parents had was with the other teacher, not with her, that she didn't have to get involved, let alone talk about them.

She kept quiet, and I left the class.

Guess who complained to the school principal...

That's right. It was me.

I will never let them mess with my family, whoever they are.

Now you're...

Returning to the subject of me meeting Ricardo; I met other girls a year older, since Ricardo had repeated the year; that's how I met Gina and Ana, it turns out that, at that time, the latter was Ricardo's ex, but they still got along well.

Something that was not good for me was that Ricardo's new girlfriend, Lena, looked at me badly for hanging out with him.

In that same year I also met Gisel, she was fun, and she was a crazy person; a fellow adventurer. I also met Franco, who I would treat as a brother, for always supporting me and being there without judgment.