MICHAEL!!!!

When I was younger, I wasn’t the “chill one.” I had a temper that was as tall as I was, and it wasn’t good. Little things made me angry, even the most trivial ones. My dad knew this was a big problem and that one day it would land me in trouble if I didn’t control it. He used to say I had a lot of anger inside me and that it suppressed growth, that if I wanted to grow taller, I would have to let go of the anger. We’ll talk about that some other time. I told him it wasn’t true and that I didn’t care. Well, I didn’t care until Michael happened. Michael. The name alone sends shivers down my spine. That day is one I will never forget. Now I’m going to tell you the story of how I almost made my grade four classmate a eunuch.

First of all, it wasn’t my fault. Michael liked me. If you’re wondering why he liked me when we were just in Grade Four, me too. I have no idea. Back then, I had nothing else in mind except securing my first position. Every other thing could wait, especially the “I like you” nonsense. We were just a bunch of eight or nine year olds.

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So on that day, maybe God decided to teach me a lesson, or maybe I decided to teach Michael one. Anyone can choose. Michael walked up to me to tell me that he liked me. It wasn’t the first time I had heard it. I had already heard it as gossip flying around the class. I kept wondering, didn’t you people have other things to worry about, like reading for tests and exams or becoming the teacher’s favourite so you could enjoy the perks?

Anyway, Michael chose that moment to confess. Imagine hearing that right after scoring 19 out of 20 in an assignment. I was already boiling inside, and that was the last thing I needed. So I punched him. I was provoked, obviously. I would never do that to someone without reason. I punched my dear admirer below the belt, and the blow sent him flat on the floor instantly.

Poor Michael. See what love did to him.

It didn’t end there. He lay on the floor in serious pain, the kind that doesn’t even let you cry. You just lie there, frozen. He wasn’t wincing, but there was a streak of tears running down his face. I ran out of the class, grabbed my school bag, and disappeared to the waiting hall. As I waited for my siblings since school was almost over, one of my classmates came to me and said I should pray to God so Michael would survive. That I had killed someone. Killed someone?

What was I going to tell my dad? How do the parents of a murderer handle something like that? How was I supposed to live with the fear of being found out, even if no one knew where I lived? I ran home. I didn’t wait for my siblings anymore. It didn’t matter at that point. I ran as if Michael’s life depended on it. When I got home, my parents weren’t around. I couldn’t eat that night, even when everyone else was having dinner. I lost my appetite completely. I just kept saying over and over that I wanted Michael to live.

The next day, I went to school scared, expecting to be called to the headmistress’s office by Michael’s parents. But guess who I saw that morning, bright eyed, laughing as usual, and even waving at me? Michael. I was the happiest person alive that day. I waved back. I didn’t mean it, but I wanted to be nice since he was… alive.

That same day, he offered to help me open my food flask. Oh God, did I ask you, eh, Michael?? Please leave me alone.

You see? I wasn’t the problem. My dad was wrong. It was Michael’s fault. People should really learn to be less annoying.