A kid’s backstory

♠EVERY kid in Year 6 had a stereotype or a back story, rumors passed on by their friends or the occasional guest to their house.

I was the psycho who tried to blow up the school.

And then there was Al.

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He awkwardly wore a brown cap outside to hide his platinum blond hair. He had big teeth but did not smile much. And he was part of the Pokemon crowd.

So was I. But there became a time where to impress the cool crowd I renounced such nerdy items in public.

Al had a little brother, and a mother. Although single mothers were not rare back then, it was left to our school friend to justify their father’s absence. Al never did.

“His father killed himself! Locked himself in his room and shot himself in the mouth,” Other-Chris, the guy who always had the desk next to me whispered. I looked at Al, four seats to my right.

“Probably couldn’t stand Al and wanted to do anything he could to get away from him,” I said.


And Al said, sullenly, quietly, almost calmly, “I heard that.”

When you think about it, it’s amazing that he invited me to his birthday party.

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