It was a sunny, that recess during first grade. Everything was going as expected. I was playing alone, but it didn’t bother me–I liked playing by myself. It was more imaginative that way. I was gripping the yellow railing to the playground equipment, when I saw a fuzzy, yellow and black striped caterpillar. Before I could stop myself, my hand came down on it.
That was no caterpillar. That was a yellow jacket. With a bleeding hand, I approached my teacher and calmly explained what happened. I was surprised that I wasn’t crying–usually bleeding made me cry.
No, the sting didn’t make me cry, but it affected me in much worse ways.
It ruined recess that year.
I was terrified of setting foot on the playground equipment. For the rest of the year (or at least the majority of it), I paced around all by myself–with my imaginary friend Anna, of course. It wasn’t too bad. I talked to Anna and held her hand like I would any friend. Still, I longed to take my invisible playmate onto the brightly colored palace of slides and monkey bars.
Okay. That’s it. Just a random memory.