Was a cold day out today. Heavy storms in the morning and a sprinkle towards the start of night. This week I started my job again through a re-contract, pretty slow week marked by nights of anime and soccer that fuels the delay of my other content creations. No, I don't see myself as a YouTuber or a "social media influencer" because well, I simply am not one but I really do enjoy creating content and giving a slice of my perspective to the world.

Traffic was slow and I had time to soak in thought. The route was familiar and the roads were comforting. We pulled up and I got off. This stop was a stop which held much memories for it sat in front of my alma mater.

The year was 1998 and a short skinny wee lad with curly hair subdued by hair cream was overjoyed at the ring of the bell. I remember a splash of faint boring tones on the walls of the old school compound flashed pass as I pranced down the stairs. It was unfortunate that it wasn't the end of day bell but recess was most welcome. I chomped quick to buy time to tourist. 

Quick thoughts. I barely recall the layout of the school because we were in the old campus for like only a year or something but mann did I remember some of the teachers that truly struck fear in me. There was that discipline mistress that literally tore a prefect's badge off his shirt one morning - damn did I remember that one. Not relevant but the dude grew up to be a doctor. Also there was my Chinese teacher who literally broke a ruler hitting a kid (that was his ruler by the way) for letting me copy his Chinese spelling or something. I remember that guy's name and face, he didn't flinch and I just tore up in tears when it was my turn for punishment. I WAS DESPERATE OKAY? I'm pretty sure I'm the only kid in that school EVER to have gotten a big fat ZERO on his report book for mother tongue at the end of the year - I was so afraid I had like a fever before every Chinese exam which lasted like a month to the point the teacher just handed me the exam paper when I returned to complete it as homework. I KID YOU NOT. But the teachers were just doing their jobs and I am truly grateful for every single one of them for every part they played - big props for my Primary 5 and 6 form teacher for making me do this 1000 grammar MCQ questions thing and also for having faith in every single one of us, god bless your soul. OK, back to the story.

I threaded carefully into enemy territory marked by benches of little girls with bean bags called stones overseeing the worn out markings of a hopscotch area, unaware that it was the last time I'd dare walk down that path. I can't recall if I was alone or with my best friend that I split food with but I remember the previous times things usually played out the same way. I'd go there and watch and talk to the kids who had brought or bought interesting trinkets from the book shop whilst the hopscotch players hopped with the tiny feet in the background - never understood the appeal of the game. 

Today was different.

A girl with twin braids and big glasses hiding her stupid face watched intently as I approach. Her head turned to the end of the canteen as her filthy  finger rose towards me. I didn't fully comprehend at that moment what was about to unfold but her friends around her seemed coherent in thought. As she stared back into my direction with eyes of power like an anime antagonist about to unfold her final coup de grace, the shadow of a beast engulfed the scene.

She and I sat in the same group of tables in class together with ruler boy and I was well acquainted with her tyranny. Her clique of witches would shoot words at the outnumbered boys in the group and we would fire back with our childish blabber. Talk is talk and such was life when I was 7. I remember her to be a bright kid, one with a pretty good command of words (at that time) and one who was slightly scheming with her lies and play acting. The boys always got into trouble but I continued giving what was received - I was a good boy, but angels live in heaven (or hell, it depends).

I froze as this gorilla of a man with hands big enough to squish my tiny head berated me with accusations of bully. Body trembling and tears flowing, today I learnt what it meant to feel helpless in fear. His voice continued as the others stood in silence. My visuals blurred as I watched and my ears deafened by the sound of my own crying. I can't fully recall what happened after but I believe it was a mixture of my sister who was in a senior class consoling me with a teacher and another teacher talking to the piece of shit monster.

In the days that follow, our form teacher would proceed to swap our seating arrangements and educate the class on not asking our parents to intimidate our classmates. So apparently this potato of a human being had gone home mouthing about how I was a big bully and this *insert Hokkien vulgar noun* decided it would be a good idea to intimidate a 7 year old based on the words of his devil child. //Quick insert: LOL, I remembered how my form teacher called out my name (by mistake I think) and told me not to ask my father to head down to school to scold my classmates and I literally ctrl+c ctrl+v the words and my father called the school the next day to clarify - that was hilarious (hmmm.... maybe I was the scheming one. :| ).//

Here, is where it gets extra scary. So I did a quick search on Facebook and found this girl's profile EASILY. Bouncing off social media handles, I literally know where she works, how her father looks like now, which area she'll be residing at and how high her husband's receding hairline is. While I thought it was scary for a big pile of turd to intimidate a helpless child (thank god for heightened school security these days), now I find it more terrifying that with today's technology, that child if vengeful, could potentially be wayyy more problematic.

Sure, thinking about this does bring back some terrible memories and a small bit of anger is kinda raging as I type but no, they're not really worth the vengeance - I'm saving that for the fishes that I lost. I'll at most hope that the unaesthetic tattoos on their bodies get infected or like hope they get bitten by mosquitoes every night. The latter seems worse.

I'm not really sure if there's a morale to the above but I guess not being a huge dick would be a good start, you never know when your past will catch up to you and bite you in the butt and if you decide to be a huge dick, you had better be off the grid. 

I had actually planned to go edit a video that I have been putting off for ages but a flashback to this really got me riled up. 

Wonder if they still remember me though.

What a cold day out today.