Kindergarden, 1st grade, 2nd grade, 3rd grade
The day I can remember I was in my kindergarden, how I held onto my aunt's legs and said “no no I don’t know anyone, just get me out of this place.” The teacher who consoled me yet separate me further from aunty, no not exactly did I scratched her, wailed loudly or pee to show unwillingness. I listened to her with my teary eyes, I look around at those unfamiliar faces, those confused – “this totally does not look like my home nor like my siblings or rather why do I have so many of them overnight?”, surprised and furious – “is it mommy daddy don’t want me or why is this girl acting like a freak holding on to her aunty legs?”
Okay fine I was not tall enough alright, like less than a meter compared to a 1.67 lady. My aunty came too, she stood outside the class, peeping at me with her mushroom hairstyle, I spotted her and tears came streaming down my cheeks, like an on/off gadget to waste the water in my body. Immediately she hid herself back, as though she is playing Mario.
Slowly I had gotten use to the environment for three years, the notice board, chalkboard, textbooks, scissors, glue, chairs and tables. The morning greeting songs where we lined up in an orderly manner and sing aloud. The day when I has a bad tummy and no toilet papers in the loo, how I ran out to call for help in front of 2 boys with my panty not worn fully, half-naked sight, how humiliated I felt. At that instance I then knew what was embarrassment. The times where we had the best few events of the year, Children’s day, friend’s birthday, when the Big elephant came to my school for performance. Actually I am afraid of Mascot, so much, they seems like some horrifying surreal monster. Till now, if I see a clown and someone forces me to go for a close-up, I will scream insanely, okay I am picture that scene now.
How I use to take a ten minutes walk back to my grandmother’s house opposite Bishan Park (at that point of time). I remember helping my decreased grandfather to carry his towel for him, how I hit him when he forgets to buy my 12 in one box of Swan Colour Pencil. When it was lunch time Grandmother scrapping the apple for me, she knows I did not like the skin, so it turns out like an empty ample shell after eating. Days where I had noonmare, that is like night mare except it is a afternoon one. My face was lying flat on my pillow, I cannot seems to lift it up and my hands were like swimming freestlye, calling for help to lift me over, but no one came to my rescue, how weird. Finally when I could, my eyes cannot opened, it is stuck, held weird, I washed it with water and came back “normal”. After work, mommy could carry younger brother, elder brother would carry a lot of things for me and I would be walking alone, sadly to leave my grandmother’s place, that was like my first home. I spend ¼ day in school, 2/4 time there and ¼ in my real home.
Anyway I think that the second child is more independent yet saddest.
Imagine including you there're 3 siblings (odd number, 5/7/9 etc)
Anyway I reckon this era no one gives birth to more than 7.
When your elder sibling is born, all attention is on him. He also gets the best of the best all for himself.
When the second one is born, attention is him yet on your elder sibling too. (50-50)
When the last sibling is born, parents will think, the other two are big enough to look after thus all attention to the youngest.
So what does the center gain?
DEEM to do everything yourself. Full stop.

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