Back when I was in elementary school, life was simple.
I went to school, had fun, and came back home.
That was my everyday. Simple, wasn't it?
But things changed.
When I moved up to middle school, I had to transfer schools. I was still a kid back then, and honestly… I was a complete moron.
And so, my story really begins.
It was my first day in a completely new school.
And I was terrified.
I was worried about what people would say. What if I embarrassed myself? What if I did something wrong?
When I stepped into the classroom, a bunch of kids were already inside, messing around, laughing, chatting like they had known each other forever.
I didn't realize yet the horror I was about to face.
After about half an hour, our homeroom teacher arrived. I felt relieved. At least now, things would become a bit more structured, right?
But then…
"How was your vacation, kids?"
And at that moment, I knew.
I was doomed.
I didn't know how to speak English. Heck, I barely even knew how to speak properly.
Every student in the class took turns answering. One by one.
And then…
"Oh! We have a new student in our class today. Introduce yourself!"
Damn it.
I stood up, my heart pounding. I felt the weight of every gaze in the room pressing down on me.
I swallowed hard and said, "Me Kimya Montagi. Me happy to meet all. I am fine, thank you."
A disaster.
The room exploded with laughter.
Our homeroom teacher, Ms. Vanessa Browler, barely held back her own chuckles.
But I heard it.
It was loud.
I could practically hear my own self-esteem shatter into a thousand pieces.
"I really am a moron, aren't I?"
Ms. Vanessa, still suppressing a smile, finally spoke, "Students! Don't laugh at him. He's new here. Try to help him and befriend him. I hope you have a great time, Kimya."
Did she really think that was enough?
Did she really believe that a few words could fix the damage?
I didn't question her. There was no point.
I walked to the last bench, sitting alone.
Then, five minutes later… the real nightmare began.
A group of boys approached me, snickering. Mocking me.
I laughed with them.
What else could I have done? Cry? That would've only made things worse.
But then…
"Stop making fun of him. He's new, you know?"
A voice.
I looked up.
One girl stood between me and the bullies.
She was the only one who hadn't laughed.
But instead of backing off, the boys turned on her instead. Mocking her. Hurling words at her.
"Just how messed up is this place?" I thought.
And so, I did the only thing I could—I stood up. For myself. For her.
I tried to argue, but my broken English failed me.
Still, our persistence annoyed them enough to leave.
Now, it was just the two of us sitting on the bench.
I turned to her. "Name your?"
She giggled. A soft, warm laugh.
"Gosh, you're bad at this," she said. "Fine, I'll help you. It's 'What is your name?' And my name? My name is Guwon Andik."
For some reason… she didn't laugh at me.
For the first time that day, I felt okay.
I smiled. "Guwon, you good. You be friend?"
She giggled again.
"Yeah, sure. I'll be your friend."
And just like that, I had made my first friend.
For the rest of the day, we talked until the first lecture began—English class, of all things.
Great.
The first day wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible either.
And that was because of her.
Guwon.
She helped me understand the school, its rules, and—most importantly—she didn't laugh at me.
That was enough.
But that night, as I lay in bed, I made a decision.
A simple one. A stupid one.
I was going to master English.
The next day, I tried to study.
It didn't work.
I stared at the English grammar book like it was an ancient text written by aliens.
"Past perfect continuous? Present participle? Who even speaks like this!?"
I flipped through the pages, my brain already melting. This wasn't working.
If I kept doing this, it would take years before I got anywhere.
I needed something faster.
Something that would burn the language into my mind.
And then, an idea struck me.
A genius idea. A terrible idea.
What if I just… flooded my brain with English?
What if I surrounded myself with nothing but English—until my brain had no choice but to adapt?
So I did.
I locked myself in my room, grabbed my phone, and did the only logical thing.
I binge-watched YouTube.
At first, it was normal.
I watched tutorials, gaming videos, random commentary.
But soon… I cranked up the difficulty.
I switched to fast-paced debate videos.
Then news channels.
Then Shakespearean plays.
By the 12th hour, my ears throbbed.
By the 24th hour, my head ached.
By the 37th hour, I had transcended human limitations.
My brain refused to process anything except English.
I could barely think in my native language anymore.
And then, I made another stupid decision.
"More."
One week.
I skipped school for one entire week.
I didn't sleep. I didn't rest.
160 hours.
I let English invade my mind.
By the end of it, my ears were ringing.
I could hear voices that weren't there.
My thoughts? No longer mine.
My brain had become a corrupted hard drive filled with only one language.
Was this genius or insanity?
I had no idea.