April 16, 2018
By Ishrat2 BRONZE, Calgary, Alberta
Ishrat2 BRONZE, Calgary, Alberta
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

August 12, 2010


The day I realized not all people were good ones.


The summer wind lightly tapped my skin. The doors leading out to the small playground I knew as paradise, were open. It was a scroching thirty something degrees, so we took the normal precautions before heading out. It was a miracle they even let us out at all. I slipped out of my indoor shoes and into my outdoor ones. I was prepared to beat anyone at the race to the swings, also known as the kings throne. At least for a solid ten minutes anyways.


My class rushed out the doors like a swarm of bees rushing out of the beehive, and beelined for all the attractions that the playground had. I was amongst the tribe as well as a very fast runner, as I quickly landed one of the swings. I felt proud. Landing a swing was as exciting as getting into med school and actually excelling. I sat down and kicked my legs back and forth as an attempt to jumpstart the motion. 


One of my daily routines during recess was that I would simply observe the children playing together, although I had no intention of joining. For the teachers, it seemed concerning and gave them the impression my peers were ignoring me. But their claims never supported the evidence. I was the odd one out, a dot of black floating in a sea of white. But it never got the best of me. When I hopped off my throne, another came along and took it. 


Looking carefully I found a bench, unsecured by any child. I bent over and grabbed a fistful of pebbles before heading onto my next kingdom. See, the collection of rocks in my hand were just a game I played for fun as a kid. It's a really sadistic game, looking back on it now, so I don't intend to explain it. I suppose it made me who I am now. Not sadistic. Just me. Hopefully.


There was a scene out of the corner of my eye that caught my attention. A redheaded girl with caramel eyes was pointing and teasing a girl, slightly smaller than herself. I called her Alice, because she liked Alice in Wonderland, and that her name was Alice. 


The teachers were supervising the other kindergardeners, so they didn't spot her, being pushed back by Alice and her entourage of snot faced brats. I was overall a lot more mature than most kindergardeners so I refused to partake in these events. A thought that still lingered in my small, 2 plus 2 is equal to 4 brain, was that why are they so intent on making her feel bad about herself. This was the first time I had experienced bullying on site. I had always been a happy go lucky child, so this was a societal shock to me. 


My mother told me that if theres a situation that makes you feel uncomfortable, you run and find someplace to hide. I think she was talking about molestation, but I was too young to comprehend that. In my little azure dress, I darted to the end of the park, and hid under the slide. I put my hand on the metal part of the slide and burned it a little by accident. And I stayed there until the bell had rung and it was time to go back to class.


I reappeared from under the slide, the gray ash from the stones scarring my dress. Before I retreated to the cool air of my classroom, I noticed the small girl had a cherry tomato color on her face which stood out. I connected the dots and my heart twistd with regret.


Some situations are meant to be interfered with. 

The author's comments:

A little tid bit from my childhood

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