I sat on my bed crying, I refused to get change out of my pajamas. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to face them again. My mom begged and pleaded with me to just get dressed. She was later for work as each second ticked past, yet I still would not budge.
My brother, stood before me, tears streaked down his face, clutching my mom’s waist he begged her to let us stay home. She sternly refused and told us that it wasn’t really that bad. School would be over shortly and we would be home for the summer.
I finally conceded and dressed myself while I wiped the hot tears with the back of my hand. We had missed the bus, mom had to drop us and as she hurriedly pushed us through the front doors she pecked us lightly and turned her back.
I couldn’t stop crying as I was escorted to my fourth grade class, to face those girls; and just as I suspected, they were sitting at their desks whispering as I walked in. The secretary, who ushered me along with a forceful hand, quietly mentioned something to my teacher as he motioned for me to take my seat.
I reluctantly sat with my back to those girls. Those girls who proceeded to giggle and whisper loudly. I did everything I could to try and block them out. To not let them get under my skin. I tried so hard.
The harder I tried, the harder the tears fell. Hot, stinging, tears.
The recess bell rang. I flinched. I dreaded the end of that shrill, cold bell because it meant those girls would be unleashed and as everyone filed from the room, making their way outside, I went to the washroom.
I picked the stall at the very end and closed the door behind me. I sat on the tank with my feet resting on the seat and waited.
I waited for self-esteem.
I waited for perseverance.
I waited for strength.
Nothing came but that cold, shrill bell this time signaling that it was time to return to class.
{ 16 comments }
Ah Why is growing up so hard??? you are awesome!
We always say kids are cruel. But some people don’t get any better with age.
You are an amazingly beautiful and strong woman.
Love and Hugs
I was in the stall next to you. From what I’ve seen of you, through you’re writing, you have all of those things, strength and perseverance especially.
Much love and hugs.
School was excruciating. This makes me want to hide my kids away so they never have to hurt like that – you captured it beautifully.
*going to hug my babies*
YOUR writing, not you’re. Gah!
Ahh fourth grade, worst grade EVER for me. You wrote this beautifully, thank you for sharing.
uhg. I too went through that. 4th grade was a bitch.
You are AWESOME, and I totally relate. Hiding from it was the worst part.
Hugs to you! XOXO
yep, I remember it. My 9 year old just “survived” 3rd grade and she has no idea how much harder it’s going to get! love your writing!
I am glad that you got through it. I hope that you know, now, that you are so worthy, and so wonderful, and so special. I hope you know they were simply ignorant, simply immature, simply cruel for no real reason.
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I hope my kids never know this pain. Kids are so incredibly mean. You captured this perfectly.
*THIS* right here is my biggest fear for my children.
biggest.
I was the girl on other end of the stall who seemed like she had it together but secretly did not. I was the one who sat and dreamed up alternate universes to not have to deal with my alcoholic father and stressed out mother.
You weren’t alone – even if it felt like it sometimes. Being a kid is so hard.
Owwie. ;(
*hugs* for little you.
((((((HUG))))))
Oof. I think we’ve all been in that stall at the end, waiting for the bell to ring.
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