I've never given much thought as to how I was born. I never thought it would be important toward who I would grow up to be in high school. Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. It has everything to do with whom or should I say what I become in high school.

On March 15, 1979, my mother, Jackie Dupuy Neal, and my father, Nicholas Neal, went to my Aunt Dolly and Uncle Jim's house for supper. My mother was a beautiful woman. Her face is the same shape as Julia Roberts, a split image of a Sports Illustrated swim suit model in build, has green eyes, and shoulder length black hair with white tips. She was in her last month of pregnancy due to have me at any time. My father can pass as a double for Johnny Depp, but with the body build of professional quarterback. Yes, he always looked like he could hurt you within seconds. He has honey brown eyes, and spiky black hair with orange tips. My parents, my aunt, and uncle sat at the dinner table finishing up their lemon pepper salmon fillet with mixed vegetables and mashed potatoes with brown gravy. My parents were laughing and cutting up with my uncle and aunt when suddenly, my mother felt some warm liquid trickle down her leg. At first, she thought she went to the bathroom; however, a harsh pain shot through her back like her spine just broke in half. She moaned in pain, shakily placed her left hand on her bulging stomach, and began her breathing exercises.

"Jackie, hon, are you alright?" my father asked a pregnant woman in labor a very stupid question.

My mother growled at my father then let him have it, "Do I look alright to you, dear? My water just broke, it feels like every bone in my body is broken, and yet you ask me if I'm alright!"

"Nick, bring her into the living room. Jim, pull out the sofa bed. We have a baby to deliver!" Aunt Donna went into her doctor mode at that moment. Yes, my aunt is a doctor; if anyone got confused there for a minute.

My mother was led into the living room, and she laid down on the sofa bed. She was in so much pain that she transformed into a beautiful white Siberian tiger. The tiger panted and growled due to being in pain.

Aunt Donna rubbed my mother's furry stomach, and said, "Jackie, it's time to push. Let's get this baby out."

My mother pushed and snarled because the pain was so intense. My poor father couldn't do anything, but rub her head. After my mother finished pushing through a contraction, she rested her head on my father's lap enjoying the feeling of being soothed by her husband.

"Alright, Jackie, come on babe. Push!" My father would let her know when to push.

My mother pushed again, and her growl became more intense due to the pain of me sliding through her pelvis and out a tiny hole that can only stretch so far.

After about two hours, Aunt Donna told my mother to stop. She removed the sack from me, and I started growling. According to my father, I was the cutest little orange and black Siberian tiger cub ever to be born. Yes, I was born a tiger. I was placed near my mother, and she began cleaning me off with her tongue as I blindly made my way to start feeding for the first time. Since they already had my name picked out, my father said my name.

"Michelle Marie Neal, our beautiful little girl."

After this day, I wouldn't meet my other side…my animal side, until my senior year of high school.