When I was three, I was inseparable from my parents. Where they went I went, always reaching out for their hands to ensure their1.
As we2 my preschool for the first time, my hands tightly3 my parents'. We walked past the 4 sign out front which read "Welcome to the Lakeschool!", up the stairs and through the front door. I was happy and5– what could this new place be? Soon enough, however, I was introduced to my teachers and as they warmly6 me, they separated my hands from my parents' hands. As we progressed across the room, my parents7 broke away from our little group and went a8 way. They seemed, in fact, to be heading toward the door. When I realized what was happening, I9 to run after them, only to be held back by my teachers. My small face contorted (变形) and tears began to flood my cheeks. My mouth opened and a desperate10 escaped, loud enough for my parents, who were now outside, to11. I stared at them, pressed up against the12. But soon another little girl13. She wrapped her14 around me until I stopped crying. Then she took my hand and led me away from the window. My parents breathed a sigh of15.
The girl was Helen, and from that moment on we were best friends.
