I don’t remember what happened in the past when I was a young lad. The one fragment piece of memory I got was my father, packing his suitcase and walk outside to the bright sun that blocks my viewing. As I dig deeper to this particularly childish memory, I never got the case to see his face but his minimal black jackets with Big "X" on the back. Afterward, I never see him again, he just vanishes like if the ashes fly away. I was 3 at that time.

I live in a family where the only thing we did was a farm and going fishing. Oftentimes, we do arrange a campfire and narrate a story. One example (and my personal favorite) was about a blue hedgehog rescuing animals from the evil Egg. That was the story that was once spoken by his grandfather when he was young during the time when he likes to imagine many things. He also likes playing pong with him. That how my new father was. As story earlier, he found my mother, sitting bit abandoned and weeping, he tries to comfort her and that how it went (at least that how it goes to me).

It appears that he is a leader (for lack of a better word) of the island known as "Fair Island". It was once known for the peaceful community for happy people. Lowest crime rate ever rated and best for a tourist spot. Sadly I unable to recognize his name. I was a bit of a rascal child, one time I was roaming in someone cropland and seizing most of his greenish apple. I was hanging with a bunch of dumb-witted kids in Kindergarten at "pee-lowr-level sckool" (we use to call that). He is a rusty, breaded old man with those cross-eyes who wearing a wheat hat of his and bluejeans clothes who being cropping plants for, how long he been doing.

He did spot us when he was actually outside the whole time and we didn't notice and we ran like little mouse we are. Despite me being the most moderate, we managed to flee from his labyrinth of wheat and plants, only we didn't escape completely. There are several armor guys, loaded, with bold word "Police" being displayed. "What you little kids doing? Should you be home?" With that stern voice of his, we are scared, shaking like we having a seizure. The police are actually working with my father so he instant knows me.

"Ah, that where you been Neptune, stealing an apple from someone else eh? You mind eh… explain that?"

That is something I couldn't forget. It was fun while it lasted but getting caught by the police was worse then I could imagine. Though I got no worse punishment than other 3 kids, getting yelled out by my mother was enough to make me cry.

Growing up outside the city was rough. I was 8, entering second grade, I was dancing around the dirt before entering my first day of school. My clothes were dirty but we were rushing to get to school so we didn't have time to switch.

No surprise says, everyone getting me a look, even those mainstream girls giving me some nice cirques like "Ewww, did you just came out of the sewer?" I just wimp on their face with my rumpled hands. It was enjoyable to see them yell in highest pitch that seems to go across the atmosphere and ran to the bathroom.

None of that actually happened when I was in High school.

Hell, the most typical stuff happened was a false rumor of that one student to other. Not only that, people puffed like they have nothing to do in their life. The crime rate is slowly but surely are expanding in Fair Island. On the plus side, no one care if I have dirt to myself.

Violent in school tend to happen when something is about to go down. I even got myself invited to some punk who thinks he can take everyone down. It was embarrassment fight, he even brushing and ran away. The downside, I came home bruised.

But, that only in the surface. That one quote I never forget was from my mother when I was sitting at the wooden dock near to the lake was this before she passed away.

“Don’t be a wandering fish, wander around the river with no idea. Find a path that can lead you to something extraordinary.”

Well, I did mom. Not in a good way...


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