Thanks, Grandpa.

Yes, my name’s Eugene, first impressions …my name, it’s a mock in itself, don’t I just know it. My Grandpa couldn’t have chosen a normal name like Toby or Jack; no, it had to be the unfamiliar type, a name that Grandpa would find amusing to say. Eugene Chester Starkey. My awful name, my dreadful life, that’s me. And that’s just the beginning; if you thought that seemed ruthless you haven’t seen anything, compared with the rest …

To begin with, I have no parents, well I do, but I am virtually an Orphan. You see, my parents gave me away, they didn’t want me, my Mum was young and she couldn’t handle or care for me and all the pressure she was under, studying for her degree, she couldn’t take it so, my Dad convinced her to give me away, ‘it’s for the best’ he apparently said. So my Mum gave me to Grandpa and told him to look after me and that’s it basically. I haven’t seen them or heard from them since, they moved away apparently, I don’t know, it’s a mystery and I don’t keep in touch, in fact I’ve never met them, but I’ve always had that desire inside me, to just simply encounter them, get to know them, for them to take me back, but I don’t think it’ll ever happen.

I live in a cottage with my Grandparents, although, it doesn’t really count as a house because it’s collapsed so much, but Grandma reassures me that everything’s just fine …when it obviously isn’t but I go along with her anyway, I definitely wouldn’t want to upset her or create an argument.

My bedroom is rather small too, it was Grandpa’s old study before I moved here, but it’s practical for sleeping in because you can’t do much else in there…so I guess it has to be. Nevertheless, I have a single-bed which screeches rather often, a warped shelf with a few books perched on it, a window but it’s always very dark, a dim lamp that is fundamentally useless, a few boxes with nick-knacks in and my charming Teddy bear Jeffery who lays on my bed, day in and day out and I nuzzle and cuddle up to him at night-time.

But I spend most my time in the garden because the garden’s like another world, a world where I’m appreciated and valued by both plants and bugs, and it’s a new adventure exploring the world I love so much. It’s lavish because all is welcome making the garden multicultural and one absurd place to hang out, discover and make new friends. I even have my own tree house where I like to park myself, reflect, meditate and see the overview of the universe below. Sometimes ‘when I’m feeling courageous’, I camp out even though it’s sub-zero degrees and makes me shudder every five seconds it’s worth it in the end… it makes me think that no matter what, anything is probable except that I am ever going to camp out again that’s most probably intolerable, I don’t think I can handle it although… I may, just for the glee of it.  

I always seem to feel neglected, specifically at school. With the name Eugene …you can imagine the grieve I get, well if not, I’m fortunate to be alive in this day and age. I’m that geeky fellow who sits in the corner and reads their book, the one that eats by the shrubberies with the woodlice, the one in P.E. who gets changed in the showers because there are no pegs left and the showers are turned on and they get drenched, the one who under no circumstances gets selected for groups, teams and partners, the one who is mocked and sniggered at what ever they do, the one who’s an outsider, the one who cry’s in their sleep, the one wanting to commit suicide, the one, that’s me.

People just don’t understand, if I had of had a ordinary name like Joe or Sam none of this would have happened …well at least most of it wouldn’t have, but the bottom line is it has that’s what makes me, me …regrettably.

… Thanks, Grandpa.

This is my story.

As you may have guessed my life is quite old-fashioned, like my name, but that’s just because I live with my grandparents who think that they are still back in the 1930’s. I try to prompt them but each time they overlook me. I mean… who eats whale-meat casserole and dried egg powder nowadays? No one …exactly my point… well I don’t think many do. And besides, if they do I think there is somewhat wrong with them like my Grandparents… I believe they have ‘teething troubles’. I told them to see a medic but they keep saying ‘it’s common, it’s our time of life… you’ll be like this when your elder.’ Oh what fun… well that’s something to look forward to in the future… not!