Playground; A different spin on things.

Hey guys, another short thing I did for eng hw. Not my best work, but interesting never the less. You know the drill :)

“The roar at 12:45pm, as usual, was terrible. The harsh ununiformed sound of runners hitting the ground rang in my ears. The noise was sharp like the shards of tanbark which grazed my scrawny legs, displaced by a frantic herd of students stampeding by me towards the playground. As I just stood petrified, I was engulfed in a moving sea of people, creating a bulge in the flow where I stood as people slowed and tried to clamber around my shaking figure. As the last of the mass rushed by me, I was forcefully pushed, sending me sprawling over and cutting my knee. Tears welled in my eyes and I wanted to cry but I saved my breath; I knew no one would care; they were too caught up in the happiness of creaky slides and rusty swings, the elements of the school I hated the most and avoided. And again I lay there alone, holding my bandaid covered shin as the crimson kept leaking through my fingers. It was marginally worse than when the students rushed by, at least someone was around me. This was the place I had learnt the brutality of social rejection. “

You wouldn’t have believed how loudly the class laughed at me after I said that for my English assessment. The topic was personal reflection. “Thank you so much Lawrence” the teacher snorted, barely but politely suppressing his laugh with a masking hand. “Harden up you wimp” someone jeered as I walked back to my seat. You could see my face redden and I felt like it was ablaze, as liquid emotion trickled from my eyes, my head sunk to my chest and a bitter plaque of anger and embarrassment crept down the back of my throat. The trek to my chair seemed indefinite, accompanied by cold arrows of mockery that hurtled and speared me from every angle of the classroom. Head down, I was reduced to the reading graffiti on the desk; further eye contact would have damn near killed me. Apart from the usual profanities etched in capitals in the wood, I noticed the words “Play the game”; the 3 words which my parents, the teachers, the principal, my peers, practically everyone in my life have been repeating nonsensically. “Play by the rules, conform to the expectations, be normal” they all said. I reflected to myself as I sat in the chair, oblivious to the students and our teacher who stared critically at me. They burned with an expectation for me to clap as students finished their presentations, but I stayed idle; I didn’t want to. Each time one of the boys stood up to give their speeches; I nearly suffocated by scoffing. Predictable sagas of “pleasant” and happy moments of the past polluted the air, such as when dad used to bring us down to the lake to fish or when we and mum went shopping for my first computer. After a while, it was all a bit samey and boring. But every time a presentation was finished, the students would cheer and clap, even the teacher would, no matter how bad it was. But what do my thoughts matter? I’m just a weirdo right?

I just shook my head; it was all a bit phony. I closed my eyes and stayed in my chair as the bell for lunch rang, followed by a rustling of books being stacked and people rushing out the door. Again, I was alone, but for some reason I was glad. Some things never change.

~L Ling