When an old school vendor asked a question,

When a former bus driver reminisced.

When a previous classmate sent an invitation, that's when I knew, my life was not what it always seemed to be.

My name is Jenny, I'm sixty one years old. I live in a luxurious villa, in an island I personally own. I'm a successful clothes designer. I was the CEO of a booming I.T. company. But with my age, my son had to take over. I'm a mother of two and wife to a very loving movie producer.

I have every thing I ever dreamed off and everything I vowed to achieve. During press interviews and gatherings, people often asked me how I managed to climb the peak of success. I often answered with hard work and determination.

My children, both have thesame successful life as I did. Our life is perfect and I always thought it was due to my relentless persuit of success but oh... I was so wrong.

Do you believe in fairy tales? Do you believe in true love? Do you believe that someone out there was meant to be with you? Do you believe in soul mates?

I never did, until that day.

Let me begin my story with thesame cliché and I hope you don't mind.

Once upon a time,

In a city filled with lights, in a street infested by the poorest of the poor, a child was born. She has jet black hair, blue eyes and thesame creamy complexion as her mother. Her parents are both bred and raised in thesame poor area of the city. They never had much, so their child will definitely grow not having or experiencing any luxury in her life.

The baby girl was born premature, under weight and was expected to die, but to both parent's surprise, she survived. They named her Jenny, only, after her fifth month of birth. Why did they wait that long you might ask? Well, its because she was expected to die. They believed a name holds everything. It marks a person's existence. They didn't want to dwell or relieve the pain of losing their child by solidifying her existence with a name.

No surprise here, that child was me! Quite obvious right? Well let us begin with my toddler days shall we?

According to my mother, when she was still alive, God bless her soul. I was a very curious and playful child. I would often disobey them. I would steal food and things from the neighbours, stores, and any where I could get food from. Damn we were poor!

Anyway, my mother said they had no intention of sending me to school. They thought life would be easier for me if I learned how to work in an early age, but when they saw how determined I was at learning, they did everything they could to send me to school.

Let's fast forward shall we? I don't want to bore you with my toddler years, besides, I'm not even sure if the memories and stories are true. Seriously though, does any of you truly remember your days in pre school? I doubt it. Maybe a few memories yes, but to talk about it in detail. That would be impossible, don't you agree?

So let's start during my fourth grade. Life was hard. I studied in the cheapest grade school available near our town. Let me tell you, there weren't many schools there. Who would build one in our place? Wanna know what it looks like? Well, our place is a small area, the houses are built with worn out wood, probably stolen somewhere. Card board boxes and plastic, yup, big plastics much like the one you probably use as trash bags, joined together by cheap glue and scraps of plywood which are the crowning glory of every edifice.

The streets are littered with garbage, it smelled bad. Feces from dogs and your friendly neighbourhood rats are everywhere, like fallen leaves during autumn.

The people? They would steal from each other, it didn't matter if its someone's hard earned money or food. It didn't matter if its some mother's formula milk for her child. Everything was for grabs.

You get the picture now?

Well, let's get back to me shall we? In fourth grade, I was the smallest, thinnest, smelliest kid in the class. Even my own teacher kept me in the back. I often complained how hard it was to see the white board, but she kept brushing me off. I understood why, but what can I do? I would rather buy food than shampoo! Soap? Well, sometimes, I mean I have to, in a way.

My classmates called me tinkerbelle. I first thought it was due to my petite frame, but one day, I heard them say the entire word. It was stinker belle, not thinkerbelle. That was the first time I truly felt poor, unwanted, misplaced and foreign.

I wanted to give up, but my mom asked me to withstand it, to atleast finish, until sixth grade. So I stayed. I swallowed every word my classmates said, bowed my head when they bullied me. I learned to live with the everyday bruise given my Miranda, the number one school bully. And before I knew it. It was time to enter middle school.

I was reluctant, but my mom and dad vowed to buy me soap and shampoo, even if it costs us our dinner. Luckily Saint Joseph middle school was free. Its run by the government, so hurray to that. But then, the biggest hurdle hit us like lightning. The school is free, but its located too far from my home. I have to aquire the paid bus services. I was close to giving up back them, But alas, I was saved! The bus driver knew my dad way back in the day. He said I can use the bus for transport, but I have to make do, standing on the bus's Isle. Well, who was I to disagree.

Are you bored? I hope not, because these events are truly important. I didn't know how my life would change by entering Middle school.

The bus driver, Mr. Saturnino is a fat Caucasian guy. He is very friendly, too friendly actually. But if not for him...

He never would have crossed my path. The person who changed my life forever.

Vincent S.

That's all there is.. Just Vincent S.