I also don’t remember being two, but my little brother Charlie was born then. My grandma says that I hated him. I wanted all the attention.
I remember a little bit from when I was three. Charlie died just a few months after my birthday, so unfortunately I barely remember him. He’s just a little blurry blob in my mind now.
On my fourth birthday, my preschool best friend moved away. I learned that nothing lasts forever. I never enjoyed school again.
When I was five, I started kindergarten. My mom made a big deal of it, and got my hopes up too high. My older brother had warned me about it. “It’s not thaaaat fun, Kelly,” he said.
My sixth year started out great. But then, a few months later, my cat died. We still haven’t gotten a new one. My dad always said we would.
Shortly after I turned seven, my parents told me they were having another baby. “You’re trying to replace Charlie!” I exclaimed. They tried to assure me they weren’t. I never believed them.
When I turned eight, I started playing soccer. I was really good at it. I still play soccer now.
At nine, I had my first crush. I went to school with him through elementary school, but never saw him after that.
When I was ten, I learned again that nothing lasts forever. My grandma died of cancer. She was my favorite grandparent.
I was an exceptional eleven year old. I’d always gotten a’s in school until my English teacher broke that streak. I guess answers in school aren’t always objective.
Twelve years now. Middle school was hard. Everyone was mean. I learned that most people aren’t good.
When I turned thirteen, I found out nothing changed. Sure, I was a teenager, but there was nothing magical about it. If anything, it was worse.
When we were on vacation when I was fourteen, I had to go to the emergency room and realized that I wasn’t immortal. Luckily, I survived.
I got my first job when I was fifteen. It was at a library, but I learned all kinds of useful skills. I learned how to write a check and write professional-sounding emails.
On my sixteenth birthday, I failed my driver’s test. I passed the next time.
When I was seventeen, my heart got broken. Turns out that “perfect guy” doesn’t really exist. I settled for pretty good, and things have been going well with my new boyfriend.
Tomorrow’s my eighteenth birthday. I’m still in high school. I haven’t picked a college, haven’t picked a career, don’t have my whole life planned out. Sorry, college prep school. It’s a little early to make all those decisions. Maybe I won’t even go to college. Who knows?