Chapter Four: River

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Picture of River :)

School never seems to be the favorite activity for most. Either because it's boring or for some other reason causing people to greatly dislike the building of learning. River didn't really have anything against the learning part of school, nor the people. He was just uncomfortable because everyone in his class was a lot older than him.

His mind had always picked up on things faster than others, retaining information in ways that baffled many. The term ordinary people would use is 'child genius', but he personally liked to think he was a normal kid.

Although the truth was, nothing was normal about him. His family was exceptionally rich, he had graduated from high school at the tender age of twelve, being accepted to Harvard a couple states away from where he lived. Of course it's illegal to have a minor living on campus with miles between him and his parents, but it's surprising what money can buy; things like nannys that basically live in the dorms with him while he goes to college to become a doctor.

He didn't have the most conventional childhood, but what is one to expect when at the age of eight he was a freshman in high school, surrounded by fifteen year olds, getting picked on directly by a fourth of the school, coddled by another fourth, ignored by another, and the subject of several whispered conversations by mostly everyone. He had chosen to be sickeningly kind to everyone, even if all the insults took an emotional toll on him, he still tried to smile and be completely selfless, counting down the days to his graduation.

It didn't get better in college. Of course there wasn't the bullies, since everyone pretty much keeps to themselves, but he was still a decade younger than some of his peers and looked down on by the majority of his classmates. He couldn't have a roommate because they might be a pedophile, so instead he had to live with his various 'handlers' that raised him more than his own parents did.

If asked what he wanted to do as a profession, unrealistically, he would want to be a musician. Music had always spoken to him, and he'd always been good at singing and piano (that was something his parents made him learn, but he turned out to really like it). However, that was an unrealistic dream, so realistically, in his future he was to be a doctor. He didn't particularly get a choice in the matter; when he was asked what he was going into college for when he was interviewed by the media, his father had answered for him, saying, "He's going into the medical industry, of course."

He wasn't too sad about it- he got to help people and improve their lives and make them better. He'd only ever really wanted to help others, whether by writing uplifting music or healing them, it made no difference.

Of course there were the days that he wanted to drop out of university and get on a bandwagon to become a travelling musician. A sixteen year old should be going to parties with their friends and doing illegal stuff, but instead he was studying for finals in a few weeks, staying up well past midnight, not because of clubs, but because he was busy memorizing the medical dictionary.

There were a couple times he almost lost it- those dark days when he thought of all the bullying he'd gone through, all the names he was called, and how difficult and taxing his life was, but then he would look at his wrist. Those three names lining his right wrist, reminding him of those he would be leaving behind if he gave up. Sure they would have each other and they probably didn't need him, but he wanted to be selfish for once and say that they needed him as much as he needed them.

So on he went until he graduated from Harvard University at the age of sixteen with his master's degree. The only thing he needed before he could move back to Miami, Florida as a full fledged doctor was his three years of training. The schoolwork was done, and now came the application.

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