My earliest complete memory is from when I was five years old.

I was playing outside alone. It was my birthday. I didn't have a birthday party because I felt that they were pointless. Instead, I just had invited my best friend over. She couldn't come because she was moving away.

It was pouring rain outside, but I barely noticed. All I noticed was the sound of the rain hitting the pavement around me. I dribbed a basketball, over, and over, and over again. The aggressive pitter-patter of the rain complimented the loud beat of the ball. Eventually, I realized that I was more wet than I would have been if I had taken a shower fully clothed. It wasn't possible for me to get any more wet.

I opened the back door, stepping into the house from the small dirt pit that we called a backyard. "Mom?" I called. No reply. I wrapped myself in a towel, walking over to the table.

A note was sitting on the table on top of an unwrapped cardboard box. It read:

Happy Birthday, Elizabeth

-Mom

I rip open the box to find two very cheap pairs of pink socks (that are about four shoe sizes too small). I knew that she disliked me because I never acted like the daughter that she always wanted, but I never realized that she wouldn't even be there for my birthday.

The doorbell rings and I get up to answer the door. I see her silhouette, but I don't dare to believe that it's her until I open the door.

"Lydia?" I whisper.

"Happy birthday," she says. "We managed to come by to drop this off on our way to San Jose. We might come back during the summer to visit, so this might not be goodbye forever." She hands me the gift. I stare at it, a mixture of relief, fear, and sadness tearing me apart. "Well? Go on then, open it!" I rip it open, peeking inside.

A frisbee, a baseball cap, and a tie lay inside.

We hug, I thank her, and she leaves.

It turns out that was the last time I ever saw her.

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"AYYYY, NICE CATCH!" one of my friends, Carson, cheers as I lay out to catch a frisbee, winning us the point. It's a rainy, windy day, and I just tied up the score for our elementary school level ultimate frisbee game. We don't have enough girls to have subs, so I'm playing savage. I give a few people high fives and hang my head back to catch some of the rain in my mouth.

Carson gives me a quick high-five. I take off my baseball cap, sweep my hair back, and put it back on.

"Man, you're good," Carson compliments me, smiling as he looks at who he's going to be guarding next point. "Dang. This is the super good guy. He's like ten feet taller than me." Carson isn't short. He's five feet tall, which is fairly tall for a nine year old. I smile as they put their best player on me. He's short and fast, like me.

They raise, and I pull. The disk goes flying across the field, landing in the back corner of their endzone, the best place possible. The guy who I'm guarding goes zooming past me as I jog towards him. I sprint to catch up to him, keeping my distance so that the handler will think it's okay to throw to him. Once the handler releases, I jump forward and grab the disk out of the air. I then turn and huck it deep to Carson. Carson catches it, rolling to break his fall. I give out a few high fives before jogging back to the end zone.

Ultimate isn't a game to me. It's a lifestyle. When I want to forget about my troubles and have fun, I play ultimate. I play violin, too, but ultimate is what I truly love doing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey Mr Baker," I say to my math teacher after the bell rings. It's still my first week of middle school. He doesn't look up from his desk. "I was wondering if I could be on the math team after school. I'm open on Fridays and I really like math." He stops what he's doing and glances up at me.

"Girls can't do math." He continues grading papers. I notice a couple mistakes in his grading, but I decide to hold my tongue.

"It would mean a lot to me if you would consider it."

He looks up once again, rolling his eyes. "Girls can't do math. I don't want any on my math team because all they'll do is distract the boys."

"Um, actually-"

"Don't you have another class to go to?" he asks. I nod, walking away. It's not worth is to pick a fight with this guy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I fall into the music of my violin, letting it absorb me. I hear the door creak open and slam shut in front of me. Our house only has one floor.

"Elizabeth!!" My mom yells at me. It's 10pm and she just got home. I can tell that this won't be a fun interaction. "Get out of my house," she yells.

Confused, I feel my hands shaking. "W... what?"

"I don't need any of your kind in this house. You're a disgrace, and you're leaving right now."

I pause. "Mom, you're not thinking this through."

"Oh, believe me, I have thought it through. You're gay, and you're leaving right now."

Tears swelling up in my eyes, I rush into the living room. I grab my backpack off of the couch, tying a sleeping bag to it and shoving a change of clothes into it. I grab a few cans of food and bottles of water from the pantry and I pack those, too. I put a hairbrush and toothbrush in. The tears start to break the surface of my eyes as I put my wallet in. It has $24.89 in it.

That was the last memory I had of a childhood.