MY NAME IS IKARO LAMBRIDIS and I live in Pangrati on Dikaiarchou street with my family. My family consists of my aunt, Eleni-Iokasti Kapodistria, the Boy, and me. I am ten years old.

That means I turned ten on September 28th. I never celebrate my birthday because on September 28th, 2010, the pilot Alexandros Lambridis, who was my father, was lost in the skies. Even though I don’t celebrate, I understand that it’s

my birthday and that I am growing a year older, because Eleni-Iokasti gives me a brand new pair of jeans as a gift. They are not faded at all, not torn, and they don’t have holes in the knees. Horrible! Only I

in the whole class wear such pants, and of course, they make fun of me. But if that was the only thing… I learn the story of my family every Thursday, when Eleni-Iokasti’s friends come

to play biriba. They sit in the living room around a round table and play while talking nonstop. I know it’s not right to eavesdrop. But I’m not eavesdropping, I’m just listening to them talk about

my life. Someone should have told it to me.