So This Is Life: Chapter One

Life. As fragile as a box marked "Caution: contents may break", it was easy to quickly see how everything in a person’s life could be turned upside down. For me, it was painless, And by painless, I mean that there is no amount of pain that could describe it. It was horrible. I had gone from the top of the world to the smallest insect in what seemed like days, but had in fact turned out to be a week. What follows is the worst week of my life, as told by me, Richard Anderson.

My life had been a torrid life from the start. Upon exiting my mother’s womb, I awoke to a world of travesty, honesty and dignity. Things moved fast; within a month I could walk, talk, jump and successfully negotiate myself out of any situation. I was proclaimed a girl genius, until it was discovered that I was indeed a boy. I skipped ahead eleven years at school. While everyone went out drinking and whatnot in the Upper Sixth, I was studying away as a lowly 7 year old. Taking pity on me, my parents did all they could to get me back to a class with children my own age. Extreme measures were taken, and after watching all three first seasons of "Lost", I soon began asking questions again. All other knowledge dropped out of my mind.

My infatuation with my invisible friends Jack, Sawyer and Hurley quickly disappeared, and I began my life as a school boy once again. The nickname "Dick" was quick to catch on, much like a pesky cold, and life began to head downhill. I was a good looking lad; young, dark brown hair, tall, muscular, shoes made of gold (my parents were fairly rich) and a face that could melt butter, so long as it was in the microwave (the butter, not my face). However, my good looks and riches got me nowhere, other than on and off the bus. I was the dumbest kid in school by a mile, and people were quick to catch on. Practical jokes were constantly played on me. My maths book was stolen from me, and when it was returned, every number in the book had an extra 1 in front of it. It was years before I discovered that 2+2 did not equal 14.

One day, I made a list of all the pranks, hoping that my headmaster would take pity. He pretended to care, but when I stood up, my golden shoes had been magnetized, causing me to topple over like a bowling pin shaped like a human, with internal organs, limbs, a head, a brain, and all the characteristics of a human you might imagine. It still puzzles me today how they made my shoes magnetic, as gold itself is not a magnetic metal. The list is as follows:

• All my paper was replaced with stone slabs and chalk. Ironically, I could not write on the stone slabs with the chalk, and had to use another stone slab instead.
• My desk was moved an inch backwards every day, until one day I found myself perched on the edge of the window.
• My pen was replaced with a pencil.
• My pencil was then replaced by a pen.
• This carried on until, much to my surprise, I was handed half a pen and pencil welded together. Everyone called it a PENcil. I didn’t get the joke.
• Every day, an object was placed under my desk to make it higher. I took my exams on the roof.
• Once, I fell asleep in a lesson, waking up at the end, only to find everyone gone. I wandered around town for days trying to find somebody, but there was simply nobody about. On the 3rd day, I finally decided to head home, when the entire town ran at me down my street, including my parents for some odd reason. I ran as fast as I could, and when everyone finally caught me up, they stopped. I was petrified. Around me was a ring of hundreds of people. Everywhere I looked, people stared at me. I began to walk towards the edge of the circle, but the circle moved with me. Suddenly, they began to close in. Slowly at first, but then they gathered pace. Faster and faster they groped towards me, causing me to scream and sob, desperately looking for a way to escape. I took my chances. I ran towards the smallest boy on the edge of the circle. I easily knocked him over, and ran for my life. The circle turned, and began to follow. I was horrified, and began to run as fast as I could, as previously I had only been running at approximately 67% of my expected velocity. As I ran down the street, I was flanked on either side by more people, jumping over fences, clambering over houses. I threw bikes behind me, ran between trees and jumped over minor obstacles like rocks and fire hydrants, but still the circle chased me relentlessly, like a pack of wolves lost in the darkness of a tunnel, yet somehow running the same way as they all strive to reach the same goal; the end of the tunnel. I kept running and running, until, suddenly,

This is not the definitive list, just the ones that I can remember to hand. Sorry about the unfinished story above, but I remember my pen running out of ink, and thus there was never an ending to the list. If I think of any more, I will make sure to write them up later in this book. Why am I writing a book, you ask? What could he possible have to tell that could be so exciting to merit all these pages? Can I just go and read all the other Harry Potter books again?

The answer to the last question is no. The other two have no answers. Merely more questions. What follows is the worst week of my life, as told by me, Dick Anderson.