Her name was Cheryl. We sat next to each other in 1st grade. We had a project and she had just gotten a new box of crayons and was sharing them. I used the yellow crayon and it broke. I firmly believe it was one of those cases where the tip was already broken inside the wrapper, no way to know until you use it.
But, oh, did she make my life hell after that. Threatened to beat me up almost daily for the rest of 1st grade. I was so happy in 2nd grade when we were in different classes and she ultimately moved away.
Fast forward to 7th grade, now in middle school. Guess who goes to my new middle school? Yep, Cheryl. It took her a few days to recognize me. Needless to say, she never forgave me over that fucking yellow crayon.
I was very happy when we moved in the middle of 7th grade.
Of course, most of the 8th grade boys at the new school made my life a living hell for the rest of the year, so I'm really not sure what was worse.......