“Rant over… Hi, my name’s Rain, or R.P., depending on where you’re from. I would say hello in my native language, but apparently whoever spruced up the end product decided that it shouldn’t have a word for ‘hello.’ The closest we’ve got is ‘kamusta,’ and that means ‘how are you?’ Wow, this country’s forebears must’ve been pre-etty nosy about their neighbors’ affairs.
“You’re probably expecting me to tell you a sappy love story that will melt you into a puddle of feels when talking about my parents. Or you’re not. If you seriously are, better stop reading now before I put a crack into your idyllic romanticized view of things. Innocence is a gift you shouldn’t take for granted. Trust me on that. I’ve been there and some days I can’t read anything without seeing an innuendo in i- oh, wait, not the type of innocence I was trying to help you preserve.
“My parents were both your typical high school teachers. They met, got married, and had me. Er, it did take them a while to have me. My mum wasn’t and isn’t exactly skinny, so she had to go jogging for months for me to come into the picture. I still don’t get why’d they do that just to have a kid... especially if you end up not loving the other person anyway. Humans are a complete mess, I swear.
“Adding the fact that they struggled with financial issues after my birth, I still don’t understand how it was worth it. My parents say I’ll understand when I’m older, but I do and I still don’t think I was worth it. Eh, might be me and my self-deprecating self. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents. It just feels unfair to them...
“I had a decent, even fantastic, childhood. My parents doted on their only child and gave me everything I asked for. You’d think I’d end up being a mammothrept or something, but miraculously, I was not. In fact, my parents were grateful to the heavens above and told me I was probably the nicest child they’d ever met. I have a hard time believing that. They’re my parents; they’re bound to be biased.
“Apparently I was maturely touchy on the subject of money, even as a kid. Whenever I overhead my parents worrying their heads off, I’d always suggest to sell my ludicrously extravagant amount of toys. Seriously, I barely managed to play with all of them — kind of impractical. My parents always refused and resorted to the gushy “omg-you-are-such-a-sweetie” technique in order to distract me/cheer me up, which to this day, I
abhor dislike. Please don’t ever do that in front of me.
“When I was three-going-on-four, they enrolled me in a local Kumon center. (Look it up if you don’t know what it is.) At some point, both of them started working part-time there so they could keep an eye on me. Did I mention how overprotective they were? Yeah, now I’m mentioning it. To this day, they are. Mostly my mother though, and you can’t blame the woman. She’s the one who carried me around for several months, endured the kicks and mood swings, and suffered through the Caesarian birth.
“I spent roughly seven to eight years at that center, broke a national record, and became the star pupil. Around age nine to eleven, my parents enrolled me in an actual school. Sort of. I was put in (every time I write ‘put in’, I read Putin) the homeschooling program because of various factors, including and not limiting to parental overprotectiveness, my social inability, and my late enrollment. I was accelerated to make up for the past few years, effectively skipping three or four grade levels in the process. That was a relief. I really didn’t want to go through learning ABCs and counting all over again.
“Long before my prepubescent days, I became acquainted with the basic computer. Fast forward and rewind a little, I was utterly enamored with the experiences the internet offered. While I am aware they held good intentions, Mum and Dad strove hard and long to shield me from the cruel realities of the world. They failed, and the repercussions tore me apart and taped me back together. The internet was the doorway to the start of my painful growth and the seed that wrought the first dredges of cynicism inside of me.
“Reliving some of my memories would only toss back dismal clouds in front of my eyes, obscuring the light that keeps everything moving. Let’s not delve into unnecessary relapses here. (Oh my God, did I just say all of that deep-sounding wise stuff??? What is wrong with me???) In order to refrain from overloading your brain, I’ll keep it short and try to be as concise as I can: We don’t devote enough scientific research to finding a cure for jerks.
“Then the whole annulment sh** happened and I’d rather not go into that. Don’t even try to push me. I don’t know you. You’re just a stranger and I’m being forced to tell my life story. If you’re really nosy, then at least have the decency to get to know me first. I’ve met more than my share of two-faced bastards — some of them got better and some of them got worse — and my bulls*** radar is on point, so get the f*** out of my sight and don’t even try.
“Mom wanted me to get a better education (third world country schools did not meet her standards), so she enlisted the help of my aunt-supposed-to-be-but-never-was-because-my-uncle-is-a-bit-of-a-blind-fool-despite-all-his-intellect-and-charm so we could immigrate. Soon enough, we were in California and sort of settled. I was fuming because my dad wasn’t with us — he had to stay behind — and that left a yawning, awkward distance between me and Mum at all times. We skirted around the topic, but sometimes it couldn’t be avoided and triggered some outbursts.
“Before I go into another rant, I’ll talk about how amazing my aunt is. Descended from a long line of fanatical Scourers, Aunt Vivian was expected to follow in their footsteps. Although the Scourers’ time have long since past, they still exist to this day and never fail to disrupt the wizarding community. In every line, there’s going to be a break in the link, and Tita Vivian was that break. She disobeyed her father by divorcing her arranged husband, falling in love with a Squib and having a child with him. Not exactly in that order, but she’s awesome. Honestly, arranged marriages are so old-fashioned. Who the hell in their right mind would go through with one? Don’t even answer that. It’s rhetorical.
“Tita Vivian’s mother was a No-Maj, surprisingly, so I’m willing to wager that she got her stubbornness from her dad. (He’s dead now. A heart attack swept him out of this world.) She’s half-Filipino and half-American, and frankly she’s smart AND pretty. I don’t understand why Tito Derek even let go of her… Other fish in the ocean my ass. Tita Vivian’s one hell of a catch and it was a dumb move tossing her back into the ocean.
“We hadn’t even unpacked yet when Tita’s job required her to move to Great Britain. (Why is it called ‘Great’ Britain? Is that just a formality? Do countries have to earn their titles like people? How would that even work?) Tita fortunately had a few contacts, so the process was remarkably fast. Mum wasn’t too disheartened — Britain met her standards, apparently — and after a few more months of waiting, we were official residents of England.
“You’re probably scrolling back up and down with your brow furrowed, wondering why I haven’t mentioned any of my magical outbursts. That’s because they were unbelievably subtle, and even I didn’t notice until later on. When I was a mere toddler, I cracked my skull when I tumbled down a flight of stairs. Somehow, my magic delethalized it and I didn’t even need to go to the hospital. Maybe that was just a strike of dumb luck, but I’m not so sure. The butterfly-shaped scar is still there. During other incidents, people’s clumsiness meter broke personal records whenever I was irritated
sorry NOT sorry Mom. Cups of liquids spilled, glassware broke, and more than a few articles of clothing disappeared. I guess the whole “karma is our specialty” legacy in my dad’s family wasn’t without a grain of truth.
“All of Mum’s plans for me flew out the window the moment the owl shot out of the laundry chute. It was hilarious. Mum started screaming like a banshee and Tita
came running with a baseball bat at the ready. I laughed so hard I almost cried. My mum protested when she finally recovered enough to read the letter with me — initially she was dead set on sending me to some fancy British Muggle school — but with some urging from Tita
(bLESS THAT WOMAN), she eventually relented. And so began my journey in this fantasy world.”