She feels as if the world is ending, or at least it's getting way, way out of whack. One day she's trying to lift herself up from the absolute depths of despair and others she's barely able to navigate an uncertain fog that has settled over her. There are some occasional shining lights but too few to make a real difference. One is the clearness of stars in the night sky. The absoluteness of the big dipper, dipping as if to ladle hope to her state of sadness. Another is the sound of a snoring puppy - perfect in its pitch and reverberation. She holds on to those moments to help sustain her when the blackness creeps in again.
She wants to be happy again but when was she ever truly happy, carefree, free from knowing the world can be a miserable and lonely place. She spends her day trying desperately to contrive happy thoughts and actions but is rarely successful. No, that's not fair. Some days she is somewhat successful. But the concentration required to keep them present is almost too much for her fragile mind. It's the unexpected moments, the casual kindnesses of others that bring an unfamiliar curl to her lips.
She thinks back on her life, starting at age 5. What were the happy moments? She remembers her mother wanting her to start school early. Her mother wants peace and quiet in the house and that's not possible with a 5 year old around. So she begins pre-first grade. The only memory is having to urinate and being told by the teacher to wait. The expected of course happens. She urinates on herself and is told she'll have to deal with it until the end of the school day. She runs home in shame that afternoon.
Age 7, second grade. The teacher is an old Catholic nun with a thick French accent. The teacher is harsh and without provocation singles her out for punishment. She spends a lot of the year in the corner feeling as if she's being watched and hated by the other students. Nevertheless she goes out of her way to be friendly to the other students. She's the first to welcome a newcomer. Her behavior however is interpreted as "disruptive". The first of many notes to her parents is sent home. It's time to move.
Age 8, third grade. This is a good year. Her teacher is kind and understanding of her need to socialize. The teacher recognizes she is a brilliant reader and allows her to head up the reading group. This is the most positive learning experience of her young life. She never forgets her third grade teacher. It's time to move again.
Age 9, fourth grade. The teacher is a tough old broad. The teacher insists on exercise every morning before lessons start. Kick ball. Even in bad weather. She wanders off one day, along with a few other misfits, into a nearby vineyard. The teacher sends her pet to retrieve them. She mouths off to the pet and never hears the end of it. Bad move. Time to change schools.
Age 10, fifth grade. She spent the first half of the year in one school and the other in a new, not quite finished school. She has no memories of the first part. The second part is a blur. There were no walls in the new school, only partitions. She remembers the absolute din that surrounded her like a pair of ear muffs.
Age 12, seventh grade. Another new school a long way away. She is smaller and more tomboyish than the other girls. She has no breasts to speak of and therefore gets no attention from the boys. She doesn't mind. She has no interest yet.
Age 13, eighth grade. She's interested in a boy, Danny. So is her best friend Janice. Janice convinces her to have a party and invite Danny. Danny winds up with Janice. Janice has breasts.
She is at the same school as seventh grade. She has a great science teacher. She's young and just out of college. She has red hair and is so enthusiastic. Until her younger sister is involved in a car accident. Everyone in the car was killed except her sister and one other person. It's a horrible tragedy. School is cancelled so everyone can go to the funerals of the three girls killed. She remembers their faces in the newspaper. They were 16.
Age 14. Her parents divorce.
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