School was a different world.
While other children laughed, shouted, and chased each other in the playground, Alex sat alone, flipping through pages—not to read, but to remember.
He had a strange ability.
Whatever he heard, he remembered.
Whatever he saw, it stayed.
Teachers noticed.
"Alex," one teacher once said, adjusting her glasses, "you have a remarkable memory."
The class turned to look at him.
For a moment, Alex felt something unfamiliar.
Recognition.
And from that day, a thought quietly planted itself in his mind:
"Maybe I am not ordinary."