My name is a word that is supposed to mean grace and undeserving kindness, but my personality will always disagree. Even the small kids from elementary school thought that was too sweet a name for a girl like me. In their eyes I was a loner and not one to be messed with, so I was Merciless. At first it was a game to walk by and watch the other kids run away, but deep down I was a lonely girl with autism who didn’t understand why there was a label placed upon my head. I spent every summer trying to come up with a new name that would rewrite my caricature. Finally when the sixth grade came it was my chance. I needed something that would reflect my culture, my French heritage, my wild Tonkawa. A voice inside me to express myself in vowels that don’t make sense in their place. I slowly write it out on my new backpack. I am Merci Stone, with a I not a Y.