September 1st in the year of 2004 was when I was first introduced to the world. I think I saw my dad first. Mom said she was too in pain and could barely say a word. She was the last person in the room to have me in her arms.  No surgery was performed, she also mentioned, though I never asked. The short conversation revolving around my birthday and how I was born is the clearest memory I could dig up.

I continued to gaze at the scrimmage of the school’s senior football team through the classroom window, paying no attention to the overlapping voices echoing around me. Why I didn’t join the team even when the coach almost literally got on his knees for me, rather not say. Privacy is a right, and I have my rights. Alright, not literally got on his knees, but you know, his actions were desperate enough to make me picture such a scene. I got skills in the field of sports, I’m just not that interested in exerting myself so much for temporary euphoria.

The sudden outburst from the teacher, our own Miss Velma, had shocked and returned everyone to their pits of silence. The room got quiet. In the corner of my eye, I could vaguely make out our lecturer leering at the students, head gliding from left to right as she scans the whole room for any miniscule mischief she deems unacceptable, like a predator looking for its next prey. Or she’s probably looking for a suitable someone to dump her oh-so-typical bad morning grouch on. In that very moment, with everyone’s eyes glued to the floor, my undoubtedly conscious self, for whatever dopey reason, looked over to the front of the classroom, just in time to make eye contact with the beast.

“Aizen Ried Faulkner!” Her shrill voice echoes in the classroom. 

Good Lord. 

Milliseconds later, another earful about my ignorant behaviour,  followed by my first trip this week to the principal’s office. I aim to pay my respects thrice a month. We are buddies after all. Not. 

In all honesty, my so-called ‘ignorant behaviour’, as stated by the abominable mistress earlier on, remains a mystery to me to this day. ‘Abominable’, just so you know, is not an exaggeration in every possible aspect. The inner me sometimes considers the possibility of Miss Velma being an unexpectedly considerate human being and busting me out of math, though there are far too many doubts revolving around that theory. 

The door to the headmaster’s office appeared before me, as big as ever. I don’t think this is normal but the door to his office is abnormally large. The door itself was almost overly ornate. Almost. Pride, I would assume. Or maybe he wanted to make the room more noticeable to visiting parents? 

I took a deep breath and exhaled. My consciousness is begging to fade just thinking about how this conversation is gonna go. Don’t get me wrong though, the headmaster’s a fun guy, being my uncle and all. Shouldn’t be that bad. 

I stared at the intricately carved door handle for another solid five seconds before grabbing hold of it and pushing the door open.