I hated school so much that I don’t remember what happened through most of those years. There are snippets of memories that I catch glimpses of, but that’s about it. They’re like rooms inside my mind that I never had the keys to, all tossed out into the abyss of forgotten memories.
But one memory that does stand out is one where we had to write stories based on pictures we picked out from a box that our teacher would provide. Basically, they were prompts like this one, only we used pictures, and whatever pictures I got always took me away to faraway places, strengthening that dream that I wanted – needed – to be somewhere else.