I wake up to the sound of murmuring. My senses are struggling to find a seat in my head. The last thing I remembered was flunking another Chemistry test. Are those sobs? My ears do not react directly to the sounds, but I hear some crying. I try to make out what the people are saying. Frustration washes over me as I slowly open my eyes, but see everything in a blur. Splotches of black dot the room. Somehow I feel so light. I try to wipe my eyes to lift the blur, but my arms are stuck at my sides. As I repeatedly blink, my vision starts to focus. Those are people. So many people, all wearing suits.

“This is absurd.” That’s father. “We wasted so much money on him, and poof. There he is, gone, and our investment down the drain.”

“Honey, he was still a good kid, it’s just that his academic skills were disappointing.” At this point, something inside me is growling.

“We did everything we could to get him focused on school. He just wasn’t smart enough.”

“That’s true. We locked him up in his room for days, we even lashed him. And his scores still brought shame on us.”

“It genetically doesn’t make sense that he was so challenged. We both graduated in the top ten for both our high school and college classes.”

“William simply was a failure, I guess.” I wince. The next moment, my vision swifts to another scene. A clean and prim man in a three-piece pinstripe suit is surrounded by a bunch of men who are holding champagne flutes in their hands. It’s Mr. Lewis. My English Literature teacher.

“William was a good kid. Always led the class discussion. Stood up to talk when everybody kept quiet.” A frail man next to him opens his mouth. My math teacher, Mr. Kim.

“His scores weren’t as disappointing, but they were still below the average. Even so, it is depressing that he gave up.”

“Doesn’t mean that he was a bad boy, because of his scores. They weren’t that bad.”

“Indeed. His grades weren’t the worst I’ve ever seen. And our school curriculum is particularly rigorous, so maybe he would have flourished somewhere else.”

“Possibly.”

Hearing the conversation, I realize something.

I’m dead.

-

My vision fades again. My memories are shattered into jigsaw pieces. My eyes start to react to light again. In a blur, I see a child. A child giggling and two adults. They are smiling. At least I think they are.

    “Look! I can jump this far!” The kid. He’s about four. It’s me.

    “Wow, honey! That is great!” It’s my mom. Her face is definitely carved with fewer wrinkles. Next to her is my dad. He looks robust. He isn’t the cantankerous, frail man, who would wouldn’t let me eat my salmon dinner when I came home with an 89 on my geometry quiz.

    “Ow!” The boy falls on his hips while jumping. Small droplets spill from his eyes.

    “Oh, William, are you okay?” Mom runs towards me, her face stricken with concern. My dad’s serene expression seems disturbed. I quietly sniffle.

    “You okay, honey?” She asks again. The child shakes his head with a quiet sob.

    “Gosh, William. You’re going to be fine, okay? Just be more careful from now on when jumping.”  My dad pats my back.

    “Son, you want to go to Smoothie King and grab a smoothie?” My dad asks.

    “Yay!” The boy jumps around.

    “I’ll get the car.” My dad nods. A small smile spreads on mom’s face.

    “Honey, don’t drink too quickly, okay? You’ll get a brain freeze.”

    “I won’t!” I give her a toothy smile.

    The scene is suddenly blotted out by dark patches.

    The four-year-old me looked happy. Happy with my parents.

    Wan light washes over my eyes, making me squint. The light slowly diminishes. I hear shouting. A jumble of sounds stab my ears.

    “Why, you worthless boy! What happened to your grades? Where’s all the money we spent on your education?” It’s my father. I’m standing there, with my uniform on. My dad’s hand flies across my face. I stand still, dumbfounded.

    “Below the average by two points? Why, even an average is a disappointing score. What did you do at your school. Mess around?” Tears are welling up in my eyes.