We were gluing together a bumblebee.
The teacher said we had to place the wings "just so."
She said if we needed help to just raise a hand.
This next part is hard to explain.
I knew how to do it, but I was scared.
What if I did it the way the teacher showed us, but then it turned out that I was wrong?
She would be mad.
My bumblebee would be stuck that way.
With the wings all wrong.
So, I raised my hand.
I held it up for a long time.
As my classmates finished, they moved to the carpet.
Then I was sitting all alone.
The teacher asked me why I hadn't started on something else while I waited for an answer.
I answered that she'd said to do it in order.
Later that week my parents came in for a conference.
To others, they repeated my teacher's words. "She is a perfectionist. I have 30 other students. I don't have time for her."
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
Non-FictionBefore reading this, you should know... This is not a happy story. There is no happy ending. Simply put, this is a chronological account of the abuse, neglect, and bullying I suffered at the hands of loved ones from birth to 17 years old. It does no...
