I was walking back to my former elementary school for the first time in nearly forever. I was going to go see my little brothers talent show. He was performing a dance to "It's Raining Men" with a group of his friends. Some of his friends even dressed up as girls. I couldn't wait to see it.

I walked up to the sidewalk, covering my face from the water droplets cascading down the trees, music blasting in my ears. I walked. Then I finally approached it.

The field.

I haven't been to this field in a pretty long time. It could be because I no longer needed to go through it to get to school or because my brother no longer played baseball there.

I closed my eyes and I breathed in. Then I stepped onto the field. As I took that step, a rush of memories came swarming back to me. Thoughts were penetrating the barriers in my head, shooting bullets at the wall blocking their entrance of my subconsciousness.

Ignoring them, I walked on.

I slipped past the gap between the old, wooden fence and a thorny, green plant. I averted the stares of a family, who were playing baseball on the baseball diamond. They probably thought I was strange for wearing flip flops on a day like today.

But I couldn't ignore my memories as I felt the damp grass on my almost bare feet.

I remembered the countless times my feet got wet in the morning from the dew spattered across the grass. Water, soaking through my shoes and socks, penetrating my feet. The minuscule crystals of dew shimmered in the early light as my smaller self scurried along to get to school.

I can see myself when I was five years old. Shoulder length straight brown hair with bangs. Tiny backpack on shoulders and a bright smile on face.

I remembered my friend and I carrying our science fair project in, fifth grade, on our heads because it was too much of a bother to carry them normally.

I remembered my end of the year picnic in second grade where my class gave my teacher a scrap book. We had each made a page for my teacher featuring our favorite memories.

I remembered making my mom carry my backpack so I could run across the field, as if I had just become free. Spreading my arms out, flying.

When I closed my eyes I could almost see my babysitters' warm smile, who passed away from leukemia a few years past. I could see my younger self running around with all the other kids, playing tag or some other game, as she watched us from nearby.

I brought my hands up to my eyes and delicately wiped them so they wouldn't look red.

But that was then and this is now.

As the sun began to shrink beneath the sky, I walked on.