go. when the bus came to pick me up, i refused to continue and even had a little adjustment with the driver of the bus.
my mother, of course, was not very happy with the situation and took it out on me. he grabbed me and lit me to the car and drove me to the school. i clicked and screamed all the way to the school. when we get to the school, she is angry and pushing me. at least, as i recall.
when the time came to go home, i refused to leave the school. i really did not know the wonderful first degree.
i guess it’s my way of being. 