People strive to make their mark on the world. Some would go to endless lengths to be remembered by the world for better or for worse. Students even sneak into group photos in the yearbook. I even found my mom in the Math Club photo in her high school yearbook. She swore she didn't remember it, but down at the bottom, her name was there.
7th grade P.E. was the last class of the day. The teacher brought us to the park just one street away. Most of the period was spent playing tag. Some of my friends and I started to walk around the park. A couple of minutes passed and we started to notice that the rest of the class disappeared. They had left us behind.
The moment we noticed that they were gone we sprinted back to the school. My mom always came at least 1o minute early to pick me up every day. I passed her car as we rushed to the school. When we got inside, no one said anything, not even the teacher batted an eye that he forgot us. That small reaction, or lack thereof, affected me more than it should have. The thing I've feared most is to be forgotten and left abandoned in the dirt.
