The Way I see

My name, my full name, is Liam Patrick Barath-Lane. I was born in Long Beach, California on April 11th, in the year 1996.

It should go without saying that I remember absolutely nothing about my birth; I mean, how could anyone for that matter? One of the first things that I remember from my childhood is standing in front of a toddler while holding a plastic golf-club, holding it in a manner that resulted in said toddler crying; I was holding the club behind my back for almost the entire time. It was only a moment or two just before I left the room the toddler and I were in (it was a bedroom of some kind), to which I came across the nanny (her name was Kathy) and, from what I remember, she was standing in the kitchen, presumably doing the dishes, watching the television, or both.

She obviously heard the crying coming from that room, as she turned around and (calmly) yelled at me, “Be nice!”

This then led to me crying. The very next thing I knew, my mom, Carolyn, immediately entered the house. I was three-years-old at the time of that day, or so I recall.

Another thing I remember from my childhood was during one Halloween. The year (as I recall) was 2000, in which I was 4-years-old. I was a pirate that year, as I wore a red bandanna, an eye-patch, and (believe it or not) I even wore real, round, golden earrings. Despite that day being a blur to me, I still remember going with my mom (I don’t recall which one) to a very special Halloween (costume) event. I don’t recall very much of it, but I certainly remember me and my mom playing musical chairs — or something like that; I distinctly remember being somewhat overwhelmed in the process.

While we were there, I noticed a woman (whom I can assume was between ages 30-50) dressed as either a vampire or a demon, as she was wearing mostly red; even her hair was that color. She was wearing what appeared to be plastic fangs. I know this because, after that event, my mom gave me a pair of those fake teeth, just as we entered her car.

As soon as we got home, I couldn’t shake off this uncomfortable feeling I had, specifically in one of my shoes. Just as soon as we entered the house, I instantly removed one of said shoes. And within it, I saw one of the round, golden earrings that I had; from what I recall, I only wore one of them. Both of my parents were

amused by this, and who could blame them? Don’t ask, because I have no clue (to this day) how it got in there.

One time, when I was in kindergarten, I was one of (just a couple of) the students sitting at a teacher’s desk. The next thing I knew, the uniform I was wearing (being a white collar with dark blue pants) was almost entirely covered in vomit; I think the desk itself had a bit of said barf on it also, but I’m not entirely sure that that was the case. I was obviously terribly sick that day, as one of the teachers (the majority of which being women) took me straight to the restroom to get me cleaned up. Not only that, they had me change immediately into knew clothes. It was not long (or so I remember) before one of my guardians came to pick me up. Her name was Lorna and she was, in fact, one of my nannies. I didn’t get any better at that point, as she quickly had to take me outside, just so I could continue hurling; this time on the grassy ground.

This reminds me, I don’t recall if it happened before or after that day, but I’m positive that it happened during my kindergarten phase. It was around nighttime and my mom, Carolyn, and I were driving. I don’t know where, as I was too young to remember, but we definitely went somewhere; presumably home. I was, of course, in the backseat of the car, as my mom was the one driving. The very next thing I knew, the windshield was splattered on with vomit — from the inside out. I don’t recall how exactly I reacted to this, but you can probably guess that it was dreadful.

“You threw up!!” I cried out.

To which, responded, “I can’t help it, Liam!”

But that wasn’t the worst of it, as we soon found out that my other mom, Kate, was also extremely ill. As soon as we got home, I found her in the bathroom, lying in the bathtub. This of course made it easy for her, as the toilet was right next to, but that should go without saying. It wasn’t long before she got up out of the tub and walked directly over towards the toilet. Right then and there, she hurled.

From then on, our entire family had gotten sick. At least, that’s what I heard from my mom, Carolyn, while on the school bus. She apparently told that whole story to the driver.

While being the first, this sure as hell was not the last time my whole family got sick; but I will cover that eventually.

I cannot recall the first time I ever started school, as (again) I was too young to remember, but I do recall many milestones from those days. One of the first said milestones to pop into my head — is one instance when I was in pre-school. In which, the class and I were being read to one infamous children’s book. That book was titled A Bad Case of Stripes. I (like many other kids that age) had not heard of the book prior-hand, so I didn’t know what to expect. The illustrations it contained were nothing unusual. But as soon as the story continued, that’s when I started to get uncomfortable. I don’t know or remember which part made me so scared (the

story itself, the imagery, or the audio recording that came with it), but what I do remember is the teacher having an aid (or whatever) escort me out of the room to help calm me down; the aid was a woman who looked to be in her late 40s-early 50s and had on a purple shirt (or it might have actually been scrubs) while wearing a fanny-pack.

I don’t quite remember any other children’s book that made me scared or visibly scared or uncomfortable. There is one exception though, but I don’t know if it really counts. The book was titled Piggy Pie and it centered around a witch; it should go without saying what exactly the premise was. I don’t believe it ever scared me, but the illustrations left something to be desired. This was during kindergarten.

Speaking of kindergarten, it was an experience of mine that had its ups and downs. I don’t quite remember the name of the school, but what I do recall is that it had the word (or letter) B in the title. I remember the days when my little self took the bus to school, but, of course, at my age and size, I was obligated to sit in a car-seat.