When A Retard Fell in Love

I am Retard

This is somewhere called Netherheim and I am retard. No joke.

 There are two main reasons why they called me so, which I can understand partly:

First, I  always believe I am a main protagonist of a novel written by a fucked-up author. My life as well as my mom, dad and everything else around me is just a joke. WE ARE ACTUALLY NOT REAL  AT ALL! ALL OF US!  I told my friends too many times before and since then they have treated me like a lunatic.

Second, my name is actually Retard. Seriously. Don't blame my parent please. They're also victims.

Legend has it that when when my mom was in her seventh months of pregnancy, she was still hitting the gym and dancing zumba. My mom was a regular member, and the owner who's  also her friend asked her to introduce the business to her friends. So she, in hope to get the promised member-get-member compensation, donned in her cool black training pants and dress on the outside and bring a dozen of moms who had been greatly upset by those slimming tea advertisements and some were just wishing to maintain their good health (Btw, yes,she wore a dress on the outside! She was in her fashion-crazed mood that day but I think it's just an excuse. She just wanted to show off to the moms in a nice appearance how good she was in her zumba. Who on earth apart from her that would wear such a loose, long dress that covered down to her knees nowaday-which she argue it was an expression of art-but weirdly still looking good. Maybe it has something to do with her otherworldly beauty.

That day my mom demonstrated how to do zumba. When my mom was in the midst of her trance-like zumba-mumba state, her bumpy belly suddenly disappeared into thin air and all the moms gasped and dumbfounded for a whole ten second before noticing what had actually happened. When they had finally regained their senses, they cheered thunderously and rushed to register for their new zumba class, awestrucked by the magical instantaneous effect of the holy dance.

It's only after they saw blood coming out from her thigh- still covered in red-turning dress that they realized what had actually happened. They felt shocked and cheated that zumba could actually have some terrifying side-effect and complained unceasingly how shameful my mom and her cahoot were to use such a dirty trick to entice customers to join such a dangerous sport. If only they could see my innocent little body hanging literally under her dress. 

Later the gym owner rushed us to the hospital. It's a very dangerous situation. Halfway from my chest up to the head was currently still stucked inside the womb and I'm suffocating as the clock ticked. Yes, I went out to greet the world with feet first with my head still stucked inside-I believe I had mentioned that earlier. When we're in the hospital and doctors asked for some things, my mom had just realized she had forgotten the most important thing :  my name is not decided yet! 

My dad was on his hibernating mode after a long hour of work and noone could forced him to go out of his den at the current state, so my mom can't ask him. So she trusted the doctor instead to give a name for me, based on the fact that doctors, having wasted their whole life to go to the university and finally get a license, there's no way on earth they couldn't find a name for a baby. Isn't that what a doctor studied hard for?  She have blind faith in them, which she later regret for the rest of her life.

When they're in operating theatre, my mom was unconcious due to the anesthetic but I still remember clearly the funny face the doctor made while we arrived at the hospital. Surprisingly mom still has enough strength to walk by herself to the operating theathre before passing out. Oops sorry I forgot my head's currently stucked inside.  I don't actually see anything.

The doctor's comment is what changed my life forever : 

"He's retard," he shook his head, referring to my mental condition after examining thoroughly according to his medical expert. He actually broke the ethical code of conduct by speaking out the taboo word, even if it's just meant to be an internal discussion with peers.