I Miss My Childhood

After Grampa passed away, Mom left me at Granny's place so that she'd not feel too lonely. I was 5 or 6. Granny registered me for kindergarten. I remember the green gingham uniform. I'd attend three hours of school in the morning. I remember that kindergarten clearly. It has the smell of crayons. And at about 10 am, the teachers would serve a cup of milo and some biscuits. Then it would be story time. At this time every day, a pretty girl with a ponytail would walk into the class in her shiny black shoes. Unlike the rest of us, she would be in a frilly dress. She would carry this box bag with an anime picture of a long haired girl with her hair flying in the wind. I would stare and stare. There would be that hush as the teacher waits for her to settle before starting her story. All of us would look as if a fairy had just descended on the class.

When I went to primary school, I would see some of my classmates carrying those Japanese anime water bottles and pencil cases. It made me think of that fairy girl and I would wonder what happened to her. I liked those things. Objects. The things I never had. The people I'd never be. Now I just immerse myself occasionally in the memory of them.