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WARNING WARNING LIFE STORY.
FOR ANYONE THAT READS THIS.
Not finished yet.

It's funny how the words in my heart can never be written down, or typed.
I've been debating typing this for a while now, but I guess I can't stop now, for it will all be in vain.
I've always thought how strange life was, and how everyone else didn't understand who I was, or that I was the most unique person on the earth. There are probably a million people around the world like me, and billions of people that have the same ideas and ideals roaming and growing in their head. But it doesn't matter, because I know no matter how desperate for attention I get, or how that I will be picky with everyone, I will always look up. The only thing holding me up now are the blue sky and cotton clouds that swirl my dreams into nightmares, and my fantasies into realities.
I suppose I miss my childhood, well, a lot. I miss all of the days I would be pampered by adults, and if anything was wrong, I could climb into their laps and all of my problems would be solved. Even though I only had on true friend, it was fun. We didn't consider each other friends at times, because we were both very competitive. I even remember when we ran around our camp center trying to see who could collect the most beads by the end of the day. I got scolded for getting dust on my shirt, but all that mattered was getting that cookies and milk at the end of the day, and going home to sleep. The first pain I remember, was when she and I were running around the table in her living room, playing tag. I slipped on the carpet, and the side of my face slammed into the coffee table. The inside of my cheek ripped open, but the outside of it was untouched. I had an ice pack on the outside, but I'm not sure how that helped. We both sat down on the kitchen table, while her mom called my mom telling her what happened. "Are you ok?" she asked me, while filling up a plastic container with colorful sand.
Despite all that happened, and all the stuff we said and did to each other, I managed to smile at her and say, "Yeah."
Ha, barely. My mouth hurt.
Before kiddie camp, I had preschool. It was great, all the stuff we could do there. I only have four memories from there, but I remember it being wonderful.
One, I remember being in the 'laundry' room of the building. They had three playrooms upstairs, and one BIG basements downstairs, but I'll save that for later.
It was the girl's room (laundry), boy's room (my favorite room, it had action figures and sand pit and trucks, aw man it was amazing.) and the food room (plastic food, dishes and such. It was fun.) Besides that, we had the learning room, which we were taught little lessons and got to eat, and make arts and crafts. I remember being in the girl's room, holding a stuffed animal. "Hold this..." I told the girl next to me, not sure who she was, but little kids are generally nice, so we could trust each other. Not like now. I walked into the hallway, then the boy's room. I was so happy to get away from the girls, and play in the sand and with the trucks. Unfortunately, I heard the clean up song. "Clean up, clean up, everybody everywhere..." we all started to sing. And that was that.
Two, I remember the playground outside. I was small, but for us, it was a whole new state. All of the equipment was made of tires, so there was no chance of slipping. There was a pole off to the side, that had tires you could climb to ther very top. I thought that today would be the day, I could prove to everyone how scary that thing wasn't. I made it to the top, yeah. But the way down? A teacher had to help me down, and I was crying. Ha, it was so funny that I remember what I said to the kid next to me. "See? No big deal."
I wish i was lying about that, but I'm not.
Third, I remember being in the learning room and they were teaching us about months.
Eh.
Fourth, I remember the basement. The place that everyone looked forward to. It was the biggest part in the whole church, and the whole back of the room was filled with little trikes. Some were older than the others, and moved slower and were harder to pedal. When we got downstairs, we all got in a line, and waited until the teacher said, "Go."
We ran toward the bikes, and found ones that were fast.
Too slow? Oh well. You would have to wait until someone went into the stage and played with the toys so you could steal it.
We were serious about this s**t.
Anyhoo.
I was so sad when my mom said I was done with kiddie camp, and I had to join school. We had to walk all the way to the Elementary, and she dragged me the whole way. Was this a punishment? I wasn't sure.
So, I started kindergarten. The teacher was okay, but she was unusually cruel to me at times. I didn't like it here that much, not many people were from camp, and they made us do more activities rather than play. But I still tried to talk to everyone and be nice, for, that is my nature. I cannot hate anyone.
I remember we had to write in a journal. Everyone would have to say everything out loud before they 'wrote' it, because we were so young. When I look back at that journal, all that I see is scribbles, not even actual words. For, I remember talking to this kid next to me, and he told me about how he was planning a surprise party for his mom on mothers day. "That's cool! 'll do that too!" I said, scribbling in my journal and drawing a picture on the top. When I was little, I wanted to become an artist. Not just any artist, a trash artist. I would always take leaves and garbage off of the ground and turn them into something beautiful. Or at least, I thought so Everyone else thought it was strange, but I didn't mind. All I was, was a sweet, little, hungry girl.
During kindergarten, though, I met a boy named Matthew. He was one of the only boys that talked to me on purpose. I was so jealous of him, he got the teacher with the bunny rabbit and birds in her room. But I guess I did like him, a lot.We hung out during the recesses, him and my friend Robert.
The only person I actually hated, was George. One day, while during recess, he walked up and sat next to me. I didn't understand why, but his mom always wanted he to go out with me, even though we were so young!
Some boys I didn't know and were mean to me walked up to George, "Hey, come on. Hang out with us!" I turned around and said to him, "If you want to, you can." I smlied. He smiled back... and... and.
Kissed me on the cheek.
The boys gasped, and started chanting, "Kelli and George, sittin' in a tree.." I stood up, flustered and angry. "SHUT UP! YOU IDIOTS SHUT UP!" I yelled at them, and started shoving. I turned around, facing George, "I HATE YOU!" I ran off, not wanting to be ridiculed anymore. From that day on, started the 4 year period where I hated George.
How I started dating him in 7th grade, I will discuss later.
First grade was a great year for me. Matt and I stared hanging out a lot, and I even slept over his house every weekend. (Not his mom's house, his grandmother's house were his dad took him every weekend.) I had so much fun there, staying up till 12, (even though his dad wanted us to go to bed at 7, there was no way we could.) Waking up and watching Power Rangers. Man, was it fun.
My teacher was nice, and she treated everyone fairly, from what I can remember.
Also, Matt and Rob got in a fight that year, and didn't speak.
For what reason, I do not know.
Second grade was great, I remember a lot from that time.
Our teacher was pregnant, so for most of the year we had a substitute, who I still remember and see occasionally today.
I still slept over Matt's, Rob and Matt stopped fighting, and I was making new friends. For some odd reason, I was put into a separate class for reading and math. It was an enriched class, and the kids there were supposed to be advanced, or something. I guess reading chapter books in first grade showed them something.
I met a guy named Lane (who I still hang out with now) and once convinced him that I had magic powers.
Ah, what fun.
I don't remember third grade that well, besides our teacher's name, and the cool squiggly pencil she gave me at the end of the year.
Fourth grade, was a great year. We had the best teacher in fourth grade, and she was really kind. I hope she's still alive today. This was the year a new student came in, Alexa. I showed her all around the school, and the art room, my favorite room. I remember we were making African masks with plaster, and all of us were grossed out by the material. I was just happy that my artwork got featured in the township's building a lot.
We passed by the gym, in which my friend Lane got ridiculed, and it still passes on. "Lane's in la la land!" the teacher said, when he say Lane daydreaming. People still say that to him today, even me.
Also, I remember walking up the the gym teacher, and looking at his name tag. His name was Kelly. Being a little kid, I looked up to him and said, "You have the same name as me! Except you spell yours with a y."
He look a bit angry and flustered, but I didn't notice.
Alexa immediately became my best friend, because she was practically my only friend.
Other memories of fourth grade:
We were the only class that had pajama party.
I moved to a higher math class, with a teacher I didn't like.
I was moved to a higher math class since first grade, and I remember my first grade teacher talking to them about it.
Although, I do remember Melissa for the first time in my fourth grade advanced math class. Our teacher looked like a witch, and we would throw papers back and fourth to each other, and play with our tamagotchi's under our desks.
By the end of the year, I wasn't very good at math anymore.
I was put into more special activities, like Problem Solving, and Playwrites, where I met my friend Tom,