MORIA
The first time I almost died, was the day of my 11th birthday.
It was a bright sunny day and I had convinced my mom to drive us halfway across town to the fair that held once a year on the outskirts of our city.
Everyone from school was going to be there.
I had no friends. No one liked me.
But it didn’t stop me from wanting to be around them.
From wanting to feel normal.
Mom had not wanted to go.
To be honest, she never wanted us to go anywhere.
Never wanted me to go anywhere.
She didn’t stop walking me to school until I was 14.
And even then she made sure I called her everyday the minute I got home, never let me go for any out of town excursion, sleepovers were always out of the question.
It’s little wonder I didn’t have any friends.
Looking back, it had never failed t
