In year seven I cut a fringe. In year eight I cut classes. In year nine I cut ties. In year ten I was cut into tiny little pieces. Over the years I've spent classes cutting pieces of paper instead of listening and cutting letters off the end of my name in some desperate attempt at finding myself. When I was little I climbed fences, balconies and out of my crib. I was always busy, always going somewhere. People were always trying to find me, I never realised I was even lost. Time never concerned me, I wasted it. As I grew up I was always learning something new, always telling people and filling their brains with opinions, to them I was just a little girl with a big voice. Being little is the hardest thing you can be, you only ever want to be bigger. I had so many ideas, so many voices in my head telling me that when I was older the world would be just splendid. I had so many expectations for now. I was nervous and afraid and excited for the future but I never truly knew what to expect. But it doesn't matter, being little becomes irrelevant because eventually, we all have to grow up.