Boo Radley

She was weird. Or at least that’s what everyone told me. She was mean. Well that’s what my friends said. She was stupid. I just figured they were right. Her name was Sarah. This I knew was true.
It’s the first day of fourth grade, and we had all known each other since kindergarten, except for Sarah. She was new. She was different. She was quiet. She was misunderstood. It seemed she was always off in a corner, isolated from the rest of us. I always thought that that’s how she wanted it to be so I believed everyone when they told me she was weird, mean, stupid, different. I never once stopped to “crawl inside of her skin and walk around in it.” I never once thought to think about how she felt and what she was like. Never once did I get the chance. She didn’t show up to school after the first week.
Three years later, it’s the first day of seventh and we all knew each other, except for this one girl. She was new. She was different. She was quiet. She was misunderstood. The teacher assigns partners for our first project of the year. I was disappointed when I was paired up with the new girl. She told me her name was Sarah. She was like any other girl. She had a lot to say. She is my best friend.
She was weird. Or at least that’s what everyone told me. She was mean. Well that’s what my friends said. She was stupid. I just figured they were right. Her name was Sarah. This I knew was true. Everything else was a lie.