When I was eleven years old and in sixth grade, I climbed into the backseat of my mother’s Toyota Corolla after school. My best friend Jasmine was with me. We were in high spirits; we’d spent all day together and had plans that afternoon to play with my new purple and silver Poo-Chi and build a dream life on The Sims.
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I’m currently sitting at my computer. I’m fidgeting in my chair; the scratchy fabric is irritating the backs of my thighs. My mouse has been hovering over the same link for the last twenty-three minutes. My best friend Nikki forwarded it to me.
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