My school is a nice place to go to. There are swings, slides and see-saws for those who liked to laugh loudly, then there are building blocks and jigsaw puzzles and crayons for those who liked to smile, and of course, there are benches and colourful desks and chairs when you want to pay attention to the teacher. What I would like most , however, is a corner where no one can see me when I don’t want them to see me. Because sometimes, I like being by myself. Sometimes, I need to be away from everyone to talk to myself. To explain things to myself. Like, why do I never get hiccups? Everybody else in my class has had their share of hiccups, even Ralph, who is not a very nice boy. What’s wrong with me? Is my brain not fitted in properly, is my heart turned the other way around? Is my body rejecting hiccup signals?

I have so many questions that I need to discuss with myself. To be honest, it’s very difficult to find time to talk to yourself in peace, when the whole world is around you all the time. And by nighttime, I am very sleepy.

My elder sister says that our parents died in a car crash, and that I was just a baby with two tiny teeth and very silly hair. She says I am lucky I don’t have to remember sad things. When she gets hiccups (she has gotten them seven times since my brain can remember), she gets irritated because she talks a lot and her hiccups so far have always happened when she is excitedly talking about something, and so, she can barely complete a sentence. She hates hiccups. I think it’s magic.

My grandmother told me that if I had hiccups, it meant somebody was remembering me. If I thought hard about the person that I thought it was, and I was right, the hiccups would go away. I asked if it applies to animals and birds too, since I can speak to them with my mind and they speak back. She said it only works across species for some special people. She also said it was never a bad idea to drink some water while I thought hard. Ever since then, I wanted to get hiccups. I carry my Hulk water bottle with me everywhere, in case you know, I get the hiccups. If I get a puppy, I will call it Hiccup.

I do have a lot of questions though. How come I don’t get any hiccups even when I remember too much about myself? Can I give somebody hiccups if I am right in front of them? So should I not look into the mirror when I think about myself? It’s very confusing sometimes. Grownups don’t really give you answers that matter. They ask you millions of questions that they already know answers to, that don’t change anybody’s life anyway: Who forgot to wash their dishes? Why would you ask Mrs. Johnson so many questions just about hiccups, in class? Can you put that Spiderman water bottle down for once so I can wash it?

If only I got hiccups. If only I had them, I would have so many answers. Every hiccup would answer one question at least. Is it possible for people in heaven to remember us from so far? Is the dog I gave my cookie to the other day, looking for me, like I thought it would?

God must be spending every second trying to figure out who is giving Him hiccups.