3rd grade is here. It's been a month since I found out I had dislexia but I still am mad. I may have over exaggerated a bit, but still I was going into 3rd grade this year, and now she tells me, a month before school! I still haven't forgiven her. I need more time to. It's a warm day, August 5, 2015, my birthday! Now I'm 11! Soon the teacher has us sit in our assigned spot. Since I had just moved to Florida from Missouri I had no idea who these people were until my new teacher said there names. Soon later I realize that my teacher is my cousin Melinda, or Mrs. Tibins. She turns to say my names and smiles at me with a look that seems to me like relief, like she needed me to rely on. Still sure enough I needed her too. I smile back and raise my hand like all the other kids are doing. She stares happily at me for a while then proceeds back to her desk. Then she sits down, and with a mature face says softly: "Okay since today is the first day of school, we will be going over rules, and if we have time at the end we might play a game." She continues on with the first subject: writing, then the next: reading, and so forth. So I guess the day was okay.