It was February 2012 , upstate NY. The cold air was rushing by and you could see all of the little 11 to 13 year old’s running around Church Camp trying to get inside the main cabin. The main cabin was this old big cream colored house in the middle of camp where everyone would go to spend time together, huddle for warmth, and eat. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was 13 years old sitting in the big couch with my long black hair. I remember always being the weird kid my whole life so in camp it was no different. After all I was the kid who stuck up the middle finger to all the girls in kids church camp. I had gotten up from my seat and was waiting to be accompanied back to my cabin to go get ready for Saturday night worship service when I got tapped on the shoulder. I turned around and there was this girl surrounded by other girls who looked terrified of speaking to me. She said “Hi my name is Yamerely. I know you’re Keyri. No one in camp likes you. Everyone is afraid of you and I want to know why. So we’re going to be friends.” I looked at her and didn’t say anything. I just walked away. That’s how my best friend and I met. She’s one of the most important person’s in my life because through the development of our friendship we’ve been though family deaths, both of our mothers going through breast cancer, heart breaks, arguments, and many accomplishments. A plethora of people could be friends, but few are willing to go through the walk when it comes to the difficult situations.