The experience with those childhood bullies scarred me. I had always been sensitive, thriving on positive experiences with others to fuel my self confidence. The fact that at such a tender age I was exposed to hatred and cruelty warped my view of the world.

Even having experiences spanning a short lifetime, I was still an impressionable kid. Despite having leftover confidence, a healthy and strong plant will wither after enough neglect.

I withdrew. My parents worried - of course they would, after the nanny situation. I never told them anything though. I think at that point I hadn't formed enough of an attachment with them to trust them with my problems. Unfortunate, considering how much grief I could have saved if I just transferred nurseries.

*.*

Time passed. I was in elementary school in the blink of an eye.

I wasn't hated or well liked then. I had a few casual friends, but my heart was well-armored at that point, and I never allowed myself to grow close to anyone. I still yearned for connection - as would most - but it didn't happen.

I did grow closer to my parents, but when I turned eight they trusted me enough to leave me alone with some supervision from my neighbors.

I probably could have gotten them arrested on the grounds of child neglect in my past life - but not only did I not begrudge them their freedom, I also knew I wouldn't be more comfortable as a ward of Japan.

Don't get me wrong, they didn't exactly jump for joy at the idea of leaving me, but they had been getting a reduced salary for years due to staying with me so often, and finances had been a bit tight for a while. They eventually had been given an ultimatum: return to their previous schedules, or be replaced.

Now we saw each other about once a week or so, and tried to make it a fun "family bonding" day.

*.*

Either way, I was pretty lonely. I had always been a somewhat solitary person despite my love of social interaction, but it was hard to adjust to constant silence after a lifetime of a bustling, rowdy household with siblings and loving parents.

I filled the silence with books. I read constantly, feeding that emptiness with fictional friends and adventures. It almost made me feel better.

Eventually I moved on to middle school.

I had several advantages which allowed me to land a scholarship to a pretty good school.

One, I had collegiate-level education previously. However little I remembered of it, however little education I had in some topics, that kind of learning doesn't exactly get completely lost.

Two, I had all the time other people spent with friends and family for studying. And study my ass off I did.

Finally, and probably most importantly, I was smart. I was pretty quick-witted and able to process information quickly. I wasn't a genius or anything, but I was above average.

All this combined helped me immensely - but it also gained me a reputation.

*.*

In middle school I was much more popular, which I took to with mixed feelings. I was still quiet, but I had always had a somewhat biting sense of humor, and wasn't afraid to make a fool out of myself after years of getting tormented for literally no reason. People liked that.

I first gained this popularity through people wanting to copy my notes and homework. Unfortunately for them, my handwriting is absolutely atrocious, which meant my notes couldn't be copied. But my homework was up for grabs due to me typing it out so teachers could read it, and my utter lack of care at what people did with it.

But I had also grown into my looks, and people began to notice that. Everyone wanted to know who the older-looking foreigner with top marks was.

I ignored it. Sure, I enjoyed the benefits of this curiosity. I had more acquaintances, I was well-liked by teachers and students alike. I wasn't the most popular student, but I was certainly untouchable in the middle school hierarchy.

I joked around with them, had a good time, enjoyed those brief years more than I expected to.

But at the end of the day, I still went home to an empty apartment. Still no one bothered to get to know the real me.

All I wanted was peace, maybe a real friend or two, and possibly for my parents to be around a bit more often.