I grew up thinking I was normal.
But I remember when I was four, dad told me that I could never enter his study.
Twelve years later, I wanted to discover what was in the study. Getting in was easy; I knew that the code was my birthday.
On top of a pile of papers was a nondescript grey binder. It wasn't anything remarkable, just a boring old notebook.
Opening it, I wasn't expecting papers saying that I was an experiment. An experiment gone wrong.