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It was cool fall morning. The birds were chirping, the sky was the most beautiful shade of blue. Everything seemed happy. Except for me. I was on my way to my first day of preschool in a new town. Every other kid was excited. What was I to be excited about? Leaving my mom? Being in a class with kids I didn’t know? If you ask me, I would have rather stayed home cuddling with my mom staying warm and toasty on the couch while she read me a story. But, since I had to go, I tried to make the best of it. And by that, I meant sitting in the corner crying for my mommy. I looked like a weeping willow drooped to the ground. When I took my first step into the classroom, I knew it was going to be the worst day of my life. When my mom was about to leave, I attached my self to her leg. “Mommy please don‘t make me go!” I begged. “Don’t worry,” she said, “It’ll be fine.” She gave me a hug and kiss and was gone. Right after my mom left, a little girl named Taylor walked in. She said hello in a very cheerful voice. I didn’t respond. I wish I had though. I should have been more courteous to my future best friend.