My Experience At The Physical Education Classroom

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"Look at that freak with those colorful socks" was a phrase I heard quite often during my middle school years. When I was a child, my mother gave me a green and red striped fluffy socks with a frog in the front. These socks meant the world to me. My mother would wash them every day and hang them outside to dry, ready for the next day. With these socks, I felt a certain protection from all the bullies that were in my middle school, so I celebrated. Until one day, a mean looking girl by the name of Leslie transferred to my school.
Not to mention, everybody would clear the halls shortly as they would even visually perceive her reflection come their way; nobody was inclined to even show her where the physical education classroom was located. But on the other hand, I felt that perhaps if I showed her around school I would not only have one bully on my side to buttress me from the rest of the kids, but I additionally had someone that I liked in my physical education class. Without giving it a second thought I approached the mean looking girl. To my surprise, she was not the least bit as mean as people portrayed her to be. Leslie and I became good friends.
Indeed, we authentically shared many things in common, like the fact that her father had passed away just like mine. After speaking for some time I shared with her that losing my father was one of the most arduous things I had ever experienced. Furthermore, I had never got to talk about it with anybody because every time I would
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