Hey.

You know who I am. Or maybe you don't, but whatever.

My name is Han Yen, I live in Singapore, I'm 12, and I'm a girl.

If my name sounds weird to you, that's because it's a Chinese name and also because I'm a Chinese.

Truth is, everything here... isn't actually me.

I mean like, yeah, everything is written by me, but you don't know the deeper meaning. In fact, no one knows the entirety of my life. Not even my best friends. Sorry Charlotte (CharKie9), Sorry Dzann, and Sorry Alina. 

My life started when I was born. (Duh)

When I was at the age of 3, I went to Nursery. Cleo was also there, and she's the only person in this school I talk to that went to the same Kindergarten as me. Big coincidence, but eh.

There's this guy at Nursery. He has dimples, baby fat, and he's plump. But in a way, he's cute. Like child-cute, not the other one. He's the first guy that ever talked to me, and by that I mean, first boy that talked to me since I was born, not including my father, first boy that talked to me since I entered Nursery. I can't exactly remember his name, but I had fun times with him. We talked a lot, played together, and helped each other.

Thing is, we aren't the best-est of friends. We were just, Friends. I met many other girls too, and they are my friends. Like my best friends during my age of 3-4. There's Cleo, Dena, Michelle, Su Yi, Heng Xin, and couple others. Dena, Michelle, and Su Yi are my closer friends, but we've grown apart since we left for different schools. I don't know if Cleo remembers them, but hey. Who cares.

Heng Xin, me, and Dena (I think), always hung out together. We sat together, played together, talked together, and much much more. 

But I realised, it wasn't them that made my life there awesome.

If was that guy. That one guy that talked to me first. 

See, if he hadn't talked to me, I would've stayed in one corner and just watched everyone play.

But he brought me out of there, and invited me to play with him. 

No one liked him. Why? For God knows why! I don't care. Because he was my friend. My. First. Friend.

Things happened between us. And by that, I mean accidents. Incidents. Nothing other than that.

During his birthday, he gave each of us stickers. Ben 10 stickers, because he's a boy. But instead of keeping the largest sticker, which contained the girl, Ben 10, and Ben 10's male friend, he gave it to me. Of course, being a nice girl, I politely requested that he keep it for himself. I mean like, I watch Ben 10, but, I would've been fine if I got a smaller one. But he said, No.

I mean like, I was what, 5? I didn't understand the meaning of care. Or friends.

But what I did know, was that I had someone that actually thought and cares for me. 

Think about it. That guy loves Ben 10 like it's the love of his life. But he gave the largest sticker to me.

Me.

The pathetic little girl that hid in the corner, silent, unmoving, and shy.

I can't remember if it was before, or after, the accident. 

But I do know it was within the age span of 3-6.

There was an accident, which nearly got me blind. We were playing with wooden blocks, the teacher told us to keep, and so we did. I grabbed the nearest blocks and started arranging them on the lowest shelves. As I looked up, someone pushed me, someone pushed the blocks off, and unlucky me, the block went straight towards my eye.

I cried.

My grandfather came. He would have scolded that person that pushed me, but he didn't.

Why?

Because it's that same guy that talked to me on my first day. He'd accidentally tripped on my leg, pushed me, and then pushed the blocks straight into my eye. 

Of course, I was fine. If not, I'd be blind, wouldn't I?

Yeah, so that boy apologised to me. He asked me if there was anything he could do to 'repay to misdeed', but I kept saying, it was fine.

And when I was 6, at the end of that year, he moved.

I mean like, it wasn't that big of a deal, but.

It's depressing, now that I think about it. He didn't say goodbye.

I don't know his name, now that I think about it. I mean like, I knew his name then, but now I'll never know.

But look at me now. 

I'm 12. I'm kind of known in school. I have a rank in school. People that do know, keep quiet.

People give me awed looks and disgusted looks left, right, centre.

But I'm crying at the fact that I'll never thank him for his deed. I'll never ever know his name again.

It's sad. There's so many other things, you know.

Like when Cleo's birthday came and I straight out smashed my face into the cake.

When I played War with my friends.

When this one guy started liking me and then confessed just last year. He's in my school, btw.

It's just. I never got to thank him. I don't like him or something, but I treasure his friendship.

I saw his grandfather once after Primary School(Please just search it up on google) started, but even his grandfather didn't recognise me.

I ask myself why, I didn't memorise his name.

Or thank him for talking to me.

WHY?

---

Next. Primary School (Primary 1 --> Kids that are 7, Primary 2 --> Kids that are 8, Primary 3 --> Kids that are 9, Primary 4 --> Kids that are 10, Primary 5 --> Kids that are 11, Primary 6 --> Kids that are 12 [Me], and then that's it. Then there's Sec(ondary) Sch, Junior College, Uni(versity))

Primary 1, I got crushed on 2 guys. Let's just call one, A and the other B.

Primary 2, about the same. But thing is: I didn't even know if they liked me.

Primary 3, I got the most awesome teacher that was 49 that year. We changed classes, and then life sucked from then on. Why? Because of Science. We start learning Sci at P3.

Primary 4, about the same, nothing much.

P5, I found out both A and B like me. I rejected B, but whatever. I started talking to A, but everything fell apart.

At P6.

My friends found out he likes someone, known as Bella, and not me.

I don't hate her.

I'm angry at him for lying when I specifically told him to tell the truth when I asked him about who he liked. Because I already knew he liked a couple people, I was fine with that.

I'm also fine with him liking Bella.

But I'm not fine with him lying.

It's just. nightwraith17, this was what I was talking about, if you recall.

But hey! This is really depressing, recalling these things.

I don't like him anymore. Honest words.

My life has been great. I have humorous friends, classmates that make silly jokes about god knows what, and we tease each other about the crushes we have.

We know it isn't going to last. Our friendship, classmate-ship, so we enjoy it.

I'm in the top class, and I'm proud. Because I've made it so far.

Never expected to be in the brainiest yet most common sense-less class.