I was thinking about my school days, and the first memory that comes to mind is the day my classmates made fun of me. I had won a merit badge among all the schools in my town, there was a party to announce the winners, and I can't remember if it really happened, but I think I touched some plates. Anyway, the whole thing was videotaped and the teacher played it in class, one of the students made fun of the way I walked and everyone started laughing. Today I cannot look in the mirror without feeling uncomfortable.

In contrast to this demonstration of how bad children can sometimes be, there is a demonstration of how good they can be. One fine day I woke up, did my morning ritual and went to catch the school bus. I got to school and sat down to wait for the bell. It rang, I got up and... where are my legs? I couldn't get up. The monitor took me to the classroom by my arms and I stayed there until the break. After the break, the students noticed that I couldn't get up and they came around me, lifted my chair and took me to the playground. They took me like a king, like a king.

I don't have that many memories, another is the love letter asking the girl to marry me, I remember the adrenaline, I just don't remember if I got an answer, I don't think so, I can't remember if I made it clear whose it was. I went back to the classroom in the middle of the break and put it between the sheets of her notebook. I remember my ingratitude, some girls kept offering me a biscuit and I refused, one day I got angry, I took it and threw it on the floor. Why did I do that? I ask myself that too, and I go further, maybe if I'd accepted and made conversation I wouldn't be so shy nowadays.

When I took the van to school, there was a girl who sat next to me - I think she was older - and I used to sleep and wake up on her shoulders. She never complained and I always slept on her shoulders. One thing I find funny is that I played Pitty at the same time, on time. I don't know her name, I can't even remember her face, but I can still smell the sweet smell and the softness of her hand that woke me up.

Once the teacher was dictating and, as she wrote slowly, I left parts blank to copy from someone else. When the teacher saw this, she asked me in the middle of the class if I was illiterate. My face boiled with shame and I cursed the teacher... in my mind, of course.

I always had classmates, I was never bullied or anything like that. In my last years at school, I mean from 13 to 15, I had a girl who used to carry me up and down, when it was time for PE she used to play draughts with me. Maybe a missed opportunity for a teenage flirtation if I wasn't so shy. I didn't finish my studies because the doctor discharged me so I wouldn't catch pneumonia.