I am from glistening with perspiration after a long soccer game, obsessing over used and worn out Barbies, and adoring my quirky sisters, Amari and Kiki.

















I am from Stone Mountain, rolling down the ancient granite rock after a juicy pack of Starburst.


I am from 30 furious bees, penetrating their daggers into my delicate two year old skin while I’m trapped in my car seat, wailing.

I am from the ear piercing ratta-tat-tat of the snare drum in the band room.




































From the aroma of the cheesy tuna casserole that my mom creates in our cozy kitchen. A smell I call home.

I am from snoozing with Froggy in my arms, embracing my first dog as I ride back home from an animal farm, and pedaling down Adams Court with my friend, Caroline.





















I am from brushing away tears as my oldest sister Kiki, clothed in a white cap and gown, strolls down the Parkview High School track to the tune of Pomp and Circumstance, then holding back the tears that threaten my eyes, as I say good bye to Kiki at her new home, Georgia State University.

I remember struggling to get onto Strawberry’s warm, leather saddle. We creep into the forest feeling the eyes of animals silently observing us from the October trees. Strawberry trots down the brown leaved path in Baltimore, and soon, a drizzle comes upon us, but we don’t come to a halt. The light drizzle swiftly shifts into a pelting downpour. Drenched and chilly, I squeeze Strawberry’s toasty red back until the end of the trail, soaking in the excitement of my first horseback ride.

I am my friendship necklace bound together by colorful chains that make me who I am. Even though the chains may lose their beautiful colors over the years, they’ll always be a part of the necklace.