The Virgin Mary Statue :: Personal Narrative Writing

The utter(a) bloody shame Statue Kindergarten through fourth grade was absolutely beautiful. We each(prenominal)(prenominal) sat in concert at lunch, played tag together on the playground, laughed and listened to the teachers together in class. Then fifth grade rolled around, and all my friends started to evolve, and for the worse as I saw it. We all started noticing things that we werent aware of before. We used to be like a bunch of happy naked babies, absolutely heedless to the fact that we were all unclothed and different from one another. Then, some of us took the role of Eve we became seduced into eating the forbidden apple and offered it to our friends. We started realizing that despite the fact that we were all wearing the same black plaid uniforms, our skin change differed. We all acted differently too. Some of us had accents, others didnt. Some girls had long hair, others had dog cuts. Some wore glasses and had skirts that went past their knees others had perfect vision and had their skirts hiked up to rise as much leg as possible. As I said, we were all becoming aware of these things. Whether it be in fifth grade ,earlier, or after, we all have these moments of revelation and we start to interpret our surroundings in a different way. For me, after fifth grade, my surroundings were changing all the time. Formation of cliques had officially started. The word cool was being redefined almost all(prenominal) month. With these new definitions came new friends and ex-friends. I recall watching girls in the familiar group playing a game of running behind the Virgin bloody shame statue whenever they saw someone they didnt like entering the playground. It was a way of letting the unwanted girl know where she stood with the clique.As discomfit as this is to admit, I used to be one of those girls who ran towards the Virgin Mary statue as if in that respect was some reward there awaiting me. But there was no treasure ther e. And even if I did find some nourish in being part of the clique that day, the following day I had become a victim of the same cruel game I was in part responsible for.