25/04/2006 the day I was born. I was born in a rich family at least that's what they say. My dad was immensely happy that I was born and how do I know that? Because he was there during my birth and not for my sister's so I pretty much consider it as being happy.
My dad adores me and so does my mom since I was the sickly child who was born underweight. I don't remember much about my past but according to my family, I got sick easily and spend most of my childhood days in the hospital and sometimes a small fragment of those memories comes in my mind.
Like the time I was hospitalized because of jaundice and the doctor came in, to give me my medicine and since he already had experience with children refusing to take the medicine he came up with a trick to make me think that the strange liquid was mango juice. I was a child but I wasn't that dumb, I knew it was medicine but I still played along with him since I didn't want to stand out of the group. When I drank the medicine without any complaint the doctor looked so proud of himself. Sheesh if only he ever knew. Anyways I just know that I stayed more at the hospital than at my home.
I remember one time my mom telling us about our childhood days and how she was worried sick about us especially me. When I asked why? She told me that I almost died. I didn't remember that but she did, my mom had hired a nanny for me because she pitied the woman since she told my mom that her husband had left her and she had a child to feed. My mom didn't think much about it and accepted it but after some days I started becoming really sick and refused to eat or drink anything. I became really lean and she told me that I completely stopped moving for awhile, except for sleeping I did nothing else. She got worried and consulted a priest and he said that a new person in our house has someone else following them. It's not a person but a spirit and the spirit looks restless, in order for your daughter to get better you need to immediately send them away. My mom went to the nanny and asked her about the truth and the nanny replied that she was actually not a divorcee but a widow and that she didn't even perform the rituals for her dead husband properly. My mom didn't waste a second and sent her away. And for me, I started getting better after the nanny left the house.
I lived in a problematic house. My dad was a alcoholic and my mom worked in a bank and damn that woman had some anger issues. She and dad would get in constant fights and me and my elder sister (who is three years older than me) would end up most of the nights at the police station. So yeah, you could basically say that I was not a house child but a police station and hospital child. But hey I'm not complaining.
As I grew up, I became fond of school works even though I still wasn't in school at that time, my sister was and she would teach me whatever she was taught at school. And little me would be over the clouds to learn the alphabets. I learned a lot from her and she was my only pal. My dad used to take me to the zoo and teach me the animal names in English. Soon came the age when I started school. I was enrolled in a private school and during my first day at school all the kids that were surrounding me were crying for their moms. I wanted to do that too but I didn't because I knew that if I did that my mom would smack the living shit out of me. So I pretended that I had my shit together and just sat there staring at the crying kids. It must've looked really weird, now that I think about it.