“Solo entra ellos no muerden, me tengo que ir a trabajar” she told me in Spanish, here I was in front of my middle school front desk my mother had just walked me all the way to the front desk. Only eight, entering my first day of fourth grade. Most kids had already started class since it was almost the end of fall. I finally got to live with my mom, but that came with having to go to school here in the United States and learning the language. Everything was fine until I had to go into this building filled with kids that were more advanced in everything than me, Feeling like a grain of sand on the beach so small blending in with everyone.
“No no take me with you, I don 't want to stay here I don 't understand what they say,” I said holding