It is the first day of the first semester from the kindergarten class of nowhere in particular, USA/Canada. It was my first day of school and I woke to my father. He had picked me up when I didn't seem to wake up and put me near my clothes. He began to sort through the various clothes I have and pick the best formal wear I could have, a black suit with a red bow tie. In my groggy daze, I mentioned something about the bow tie being cool but the black suit wasn't. he immediately dismissed it, showing off his wardrobe, over a dozen suits and ties. After I dressed, he sat me down at the table. Even if I was tall for my age, my father was so tall that he had to completely kneel and then crouch to be on eye level. He put a video recorder within the flab on the front of the suit that a flower of handkerchief went. He gave me some of my favorite cereal, milk and some red juice and sent me on my way.
I began walking towards the bus stop. While I was walking there was a cold breeze that shivered my legs and spine. I suddenly felt this wave of loneliness overcome me. I was scared but I decided to do what my father would and continue on my way. When I arrived at the bus stop, I could see several children already waiting. From simple guessing, I predicted that there was two second graders, four third graders and two other kindergarteners. Even though that I was in kindergarten, I was oddly taller than them. As I approached, the children slowly backed up away from me, obviously afraid. My loneliness grew into despair with a dose of guilt.
Everyone ran except one. She was one of those predicted kindergarteners. She said I looked funny and pale and started giggling. When I became sad from that comment, however, she cheered my up with a hug. I made my first friend. When we continued talking, I had found out that her name was Beatrice and she was indeed a kindergartener. We continued talking, finding out all sorts of stuff. She found out that she was held back a year because she let her teacher's wig on fire; she loved math and she was good at calculating things in her head; and she even told me a story about how a kid sprained his ankle in the playground. I felt warm again like how I woke up to my father's long arms.
When the bus arrived, the bus driver, a plump man with a name tag that said "Hello. My name is
Otto" looked at me directly, terrified. Beatrice told the man that I was going to go to school and he checked some papers, nervously. Everything checked out and I got on board, terrified faces throughout the bus. The bus ride to the school was long and cold and silent. The loneliness is back.
I arrived at school but the administration stopped me. They were frightened by my appearance, making comments like "What's wrong with him?" and "Why is he so pale?" and even "Is that a child?". They had called my father with the words, "Hello, is this Tony S.? We have your child that you need to pick up". Within minutes, my father arrived, in his signature black suit and just stood there at the entrance. The administration looked more terrified at the slender figure that stood before him. The rest of the video recorder that I used to date my first day had too much static and only glimpses of images showed up. The only thing that day that I personally remember was dinner with my father and Beatrice and her family, though her family were mortified that they were having dinner with the famed man.
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Slenderman op
