Indecisive

I-ntro to Hell

Honestly, seventh grade is kinda a blur. I feel like it just happened and I know it happened, but have no idea what happened. I don't know. It's weird. But what I do know is that I ended up meeting my best friend in my home room class that year. Her name is Marissa Holland. Marissa was the sweetest thing and always had such a positive spirit. She still does to this day. She was the only close friend outside of our gifted circle, but I always felt closer to her. We'd often get in trouble for stupid shit too. Really all our friendship mainly consist of is us being complete idiots and exchanging faces back and forth and laughing about it. We're also those people that call each other's sluts, whores, and bitches but never get offended. It's honestly such a great friendship. She also has such a great taste in music and that's all I need in a person. 

I started cheer leading this year too. I've cheered before, but it was for recreation so according to certain people it "doesn't count" . Before this I've done softball, karate, swimming, and I also managed track and wrestling. And I think I liked cheering the most. I mean wrestling was really fun but I love stunting and being thrown to great heights until I fall. It feels like you're flying.  And you can't do anything but trust your bases to catch you at the bottom. Literally the ultimate trust fall. Nothing was so incredibly great about seventh grade.  However, one thing that was pretty great was the fact that I got to see Maxwell again. He ran track for his middle school and I ran into him at a meet (haha see what I did there?).  It was a really great like five second conversation because I was still awkward and shy or whatever so I mostly talked to his mom in between me setting up hurdles. I never saw him after that so I let go of my little crush for a while. 

But then there was eighth grade. Which is equivalent to the hell before hell, So pre hell? or Intro to hell? Because eighth grade was literal trash but it wasn't at the same time.

Eighth grade was just testing the fires of hell,  just seeing if it was warm enough. Because I thought things were bad, but they were nothing compared to later events in my life. We'll get to that another time.  Anywayyy, (This is really besides a point but I think a part of this got deleted or it didn't save. Oh well. Fuck it.) on January 8, 2015 I made a cult with my best friends. Okay, it wasn't a cult but outsiders might think it is because we often say the exact same thing at the exact same time or laugh simultaneously as if it was planned but it wasn't.  We called ourselves JACK; everyone hated us. I don't mean that lightly. People liked me, they liked Jolie, they liked Abigail, and they liked Claire, but they hated JACK. We would always get away with skipping class and being disruptive and it got on everyone's nerves. We also had our own theme days. we had tacky day, goth day, and tie day, so yes, we were a distraction to everyone. But I don't think I'd be who I am today without knowing them .