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I was seven years old and lonely. A nerdy girl who had no idea how to make friends. A girl who tackled boys during British Bulldog. A girl who shoved her way into other people's activities, then became hurt that others were shocked, leaving in shame and guilt.
The sky was grey as I hugged my knees, staring up at the sun. I saw that it was actually a pale blue with clouds skidding across it, racing each other with pale abandon, but that didn't matter to me. I was alone. The sky was grey.
After some time, I stood up and walked over to the monkey bars. It was so cold, I just wanted to get warm. And anything was better than sitting alone.
As I approached the metal mesh, I noticed a bunch of boys behaving very much like monkeys themselves. This didn't bother me. Just being around other kids was already starting to cheer me up. Then, a sound made my heart plummet straight to my shoes.
“Don't let her play!” cried a red-haired boy, scowling at me from the third rung. Drooping, I started to turn away. A voice stopped me. It was a kind, soft voice – well, soft for a boy.
“C'mon, let her play,” he cajoled fairly and calmly. “She can be here.”
That was my introduction to Joe.
We became fast friends in the blink of an eye, racing each other to the top of the dome. I had never smiled so much since I started school.
We played on the swings, clambered over the monkey bar dome, and clasped hands wherever we went. I was so happy. Three days flew by in waves of golden sunshine.
Three days.
On the third day, Mike, the leader of Joe's original “gang,” called us over. We were holding hands again, and I remember clearly a feeling of dread as I saw his dark scowl. I already knew what was going to happen. It had a feeling of unreality about it that was all too real.
“You can't be friends with a girl,” Mike said without introduction. “It's either her or us.”
Joe looked at me, his dark grey eyes troubled. He hesitated only a moment before he said, “I'm sorry... I know them longer.”
Shock. Shock and a darkening of the world.
Then he and the rest of the boys were gone.
Once again, the sky was grey.
©YlaranialaMajere 2013
The sky was grey as I hugged my knees, staring up at the sun. I saw that it was actually a pale blue with clouds skidding across it, racing each other with pale abandon, but that didn't matter to me. I was alone. The sky was grey.
After some time, I stood up and walked over to the monkey bars. It was so cold, I just wanted to get warm. And anything was better than sitting alone.
As I approached the metal mesh, I noticed a bunch of boys behaving very much like monkeys themselves. This didn't bother me. Just being around other kids was already starting to cheer me up. Then, a sound made my heart plummet straight to my shoes.
“Don't let her play!” cried a red-haired boy, scowling at me from the third rung. Drooping, I started to turn away. A voice stopped me. It was a kind, soft voice – well, soft for a boy.
“C'mon, let her play,” he cajoled fairly and calmly. “She can be here.”
That was my introduction to Joe.
We became fast friends in the blink of an eye, racing each other to the top of the dome. I had never smiled so much since I started school.
We played on the swings, clambered over the monkey bar dome, and clasped hands wherever we went. I was so happy. Three days flew by in waves of golden sunshine.
Three days.
On the third day, Mike, the leader of Joe's original “gang,” called us over. We were holding hands again, and I remember clearly a feeling of dread as I saw his dark scowl. I already knew what was going to happen. It had a feeling of unreality about it that was all too real.
“You can't be friends with a girl,” Mike said without introduction. “It's either her or us.”
Joe looked at me, his dark grey eyes troubled. He hesitated only a moment before he said, “I'm sorry... I know them longer.”
Shock. Shock and a darkening of the world.
Then he and the rest of the boys were gone.
Once again, the sky was grey.
©YlaranialaMajere 2013
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This is a true story.
It happened to me when I was seven years old - a year before I was taken out of public school. Thank goodness.
This experience taught me a lesson. Know who your friends are. Not those whom you hope will be your friend, not those who say they are, not those who spend time with you. Friends are those who will stick by you and do things just because they care. Friends care about fairness.
Know who your friends are. Keep them close. They are more precious and more rare than sapphires.
It happened to me when I was seven years old - a year before I was taken out of public school. Thank goodness.
This experience taught me a lesson. Know who your friends are. Not those whom you hope will be your friend, not those who say they are, not those who spend time with you. Friends are those who will stick by you and do things just because they care. Friends care about fairness.
Know who your friends are. Keep them close. They are more precious and more rare than sapphires.
© 2014 - 2024 YlaranialaMajere
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