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Dumb neurons.

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All of it, because of a dumb disconnected neuron. I was born a normal kid. My learning went well at kindergarten, until they tried to teach me how to form letters with a pencil. My handwriting was... peculiar... to keep from saying ugly. My teachers were at first sympathetic, trying to make me learn, giving me calligraphy lessons more intense than they gave to other little girls. But I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, the letters would wander off the lines in my notebooks, my A's were taller than my L's. And later, when I came to elementary school, the teachers started bragging about how they were puzzled by the Rosetta Stone that was my latest essay, that they felt like explorers deciphering Egyptian hieroglyphs. My parents started to worry, so they took me to get a brain scan, after which they discovered that the space between two of my neurons had not finished developing itself, and therefore, my handwriting was wild and bizarre on the lines of my notebooks, unlike my friend's calligraphies, who were always round, small, and often with capital letters traced in red. After the studies, I took some medicines, went to therapy, and now my handwriting is decent, when I work hard on it. But to this day, whenever we have teamwork, my friends avoid at all cost that I write on the final project.





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