[ Chapter III (3): "MICHAEL J. VANDERBILT?" ]
[ "My name is Michael... Vanderbilt?" ] Michael asked, not entirely sure if he still retained his last name in this new life. But in seeing the school nurse nod, he didn't have to completely worry about that part.
[ "That is correct, what else do you remember." ] She asked, before then checking something on the paper that she's holding. Looking up at him, Michael didn't say anything more, as he doesn't know anything else about himself.
[ "That's it." ]
[ "That's it." ]
[ "Yeah, that's all I could remember. Sorry." ] He confirmed, with a shrug of his shoulder. Even the Vanderbilt part was already overreaching it for him, as he had just arrived into this new world; into this new life. As Michael 2.0.
[ "Are you sure you don't remember anything else?" ] She asked, intrigued, before then continuing. [ "Like let's say age, address, birthday, and what year it is." ]
[ "No, I don't." ] Michael answered, his peripheral focusing on the panicked Axl outside the room standing closely near Mrs. Heck, who's making a phone call. [ "But I do love reading, does that count?" ]
[ "Right..." ] The nurse narrowed her eyes, as if suspecting that something isn't right. Or that this situation utterly perplexed her, but with no way around it, she continues asking questions to the child sitting in front of her.
He smiles as harmlessly as he could at the school nurse, before then she wrote something on her clipboard. He wasn't really lying about the reading part, he does love reading; it's a habit of his, instilled and forced by his father onto him.
At first it was, but at some point he slowly started enjoying it and broadened his horizons from old books: Frankenstein, The Great Gatsby, The Art of War, The Odyssey, etc. To new and modern books: IT, A Song of Ice and Fire, Solo Leveling, etc.
It was at first to maintain a quota, as he was forced to read books left and right by his tutor, and by his father. Thick books, and unless he reads it all, then he wouldn't eat. He tried rebelling once, it didn't work— did little to nothing, so he stopped.
So now Michael is pretty much a nerd, lover of books whatever it may be. And to be honest, he doesn't blame himself on that; as thanks to that, he became a jack of all trades kind of guy, easily passing exams here and there thanks to all of that reading.
And perhaps that may be why he is so decentisized at times, staring blankly at space, wondering if there really may be a reason to life other than... just living. That, or he may have just read too much H.P. Lovecraft's work, which makes humanity feel small in comparison to cosmic horror.
[ "This is peculiar, really odd..." ] The nurse said, questing life after the round of questioning that she has directed to Michael— who answered it all with a smile to his face, from personal questions to general knowledge. The latter of which he answered perfectly and efficiently.
[ "How come, miss?" ] Michael perhaps had overdone it, as he answered all of her questions relating to math, science, history, and even medicine— except for ones relating to his life, in this world.
[ "How do you even know who the 16th president is-" ] Abraham Lincoln, 1861-1865, shot in the back of his head by John Wilkes Booth in Ford's Theatre. [ "yet not your own age, this is rare, especially for children" ]
[ "Yeah, weird, totally." ] He agreed, nodding his head along while smiling, which was ignored intentionally or unintentionally by the nurse as she seems to be talking to herself more than to him, a child.
He had answered all of her questions, less so the personal ones but more so the trivia and general knowledge ones. As a way to see if this world is the same world as his, he was correct really; no changes at all he could see at the moment.
[ "Hey, uhh, excuse me Ms. Nurse?" ]
[ "Hmm, yeah?" ] She perked up, pulled out of her thoughts, as she then refocused on the child sitting across her desk.
[ "Can I please see my file?" ] Which then pointed at the clipboard she's holding on her left hand, filled with notes and basic information about him— the child.
She nodded, and handed the said clipboard to the child, leaning a little bit forward to make it easier for Michael to grab. A small gesture which the latter appreciated, giving a faint smile in turn. [ "Thank you." ]
[ Name: Michael J. Vanderbilt ] He reads, which checks out, but the J. is surprising as he didn't have that in his last life; maybe in this life he took his mother's surname as his middle name, a common practice.
[ Born: August 20, 2000 ] The day checks out; he shares his birthday with H.P. Lovecraft, aside from the year of birth of course, one was born in the 19th century, the other on the 21st.
But oddly enough, the year of birth of this Michael is different from his previous birthday. He was born in 2004, and not in 2000. But different Michael means different year of birth, I guess. [ "Excuse me, but what year is it?" ]
[ "2011." ] The nurse answered absentmindedly, as she observes Michael reading his own file; funny though, because why does she feel like she's not looking at a child? But instead to an adult.
[ "Okay, thank you." ] Michael ignored the weird curious stare she's giving him, as he then continues reading his file which was short. But is enough to gather information.
[ Address: Westmont Valley, Los Angeles, CA 90044. 2025 E. 67st St. ]
[ Parents/Guardians Names: Martial P. Vanderbilt (Father), Lanna A. Vanderbilt née Jennings (Mother) ]
[ Willard R. Abbott Elementary, K-5 (2005-2010) ]
[ "..." ] What the... fuck? On the outside Michael appears to be calm, but on the inside he is actually confused on what he's reading. The names of his parents are exactly the same as his original ones.
Which may mean that his parents are still assholes in this world, a bad thing. Because his mother is neglectful to the point that it hurts, and his father is a workaholic that only cares about results. A bad combo he had endured for years. FOR 21 YEARS!
[ "Oh wow... So... I, uhh- I studied in Abbott Elementary, that's-that's fantastic... I think." ] Michael spoke out loud, trying to sound enthusiastic about that part though really he isn't. He is in truth afraid by the fact that his parents are still the same, no matter what life or reality he may be in.
He tried to hide the shakiness in his voice, which is fear. All the while reading the paper on his hand, absorbing it all and re-reading the part about his parents; then at his picture smiling at him on the top left.
Dark hair, green eyes, chubby but not overly chubby cheeks. No freckles in sight, yes that is him, but he doesn't remember ever smiling that sweetly when he was a child; which is still a weird feeling to him even though he knows he isn't that child exactly. [ "That is a-uhh, awesome stuff. Yeah." ] He glanced out the door, at the kid named Axl and Mrs. Heck who's still chatting with someone on the phone, and wonders; who exactly is she talking too? [ "So... this school is called Central Middle School?" ]
[ "Yeah, 40% of the student population went or are currently studying here." ] She answered with a smile to her face, while slowly taking back the clipboard being handed to her. [ "Isn't that exciting?" ]
[ "Yeah... so exciting." ] A smile was present on his face, but he wasn't happy. Instead he prays that the school wouldn't call his parents, as he doesn't want to meet any of them— his mother, sure, to some extent. But his father, he doesn't want to see him.
His eyes lingered slightly outside, at Axl who's glued to his mother waving at him; as to not appear rude, he waved back. And after some time, Mrs. Heck was finally done with the call, approaching him, Axl in tow.
[ "Michael, I have great news." ] She said, which makes Michael lean back slightly, not really feeling like what she'll say would be a good news. If it is a good news, then it better be about his father's death, or he wouldn't accept it. [ "I called your mother and she says she'll be here, as fast as she could. Don't you worry, sweetie." ]
For a second he paused in the air, what do you mean his mother is on her way to school? To beat his ass? To do nothing? What exactly do you mean Mrs. Heck? [ "What...?" ]
[ "Yes exactly, don't worry. Everything is going to be fine." ] She answered, not at all noticing the fact that Michael was sweating bullets. [ "I promised your mother I would look out for you, so stay still, and don't worry." ]
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[ FUN FACT: "President Lincoln and President Kennedy shares a chilling bizarre parallel with one another; both were elected 100 years apart (1860/1960); both were shot on a Friday in the presence of their wives; both were concerned with Civil Rights and succeeded by Vice Presidents named Johnson (born 100 years apart); and famously, Lincoln was killed at Ford's Theatre while Kennedy was killed in a Ford-made Lincoln, with both assassins (Booth/Oswald) having three names totalling fifteen letters and being killed before trial." ]
[ 11/22/2025 ]
[ 11/23/2025 ]