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Four-Square

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As the rain pounded on the black asphalt of the school playground, the children gathered outside for their daily game of four-square. Nothing would get in their way of the game, not even the pouring rain. It was practically a ritual that they went through everyday after lunch, Monday through Friday. They knew that they would be damp for the remainder of the day, but this didn’t stop them from meeting on the faded white lines that made up the squares that were so sacred to the third graders.

A tiny blonde child missed the ball and it went bouncing to the other side of the court until it rolled to a stop next to a pair of red rain boots. In the boots, shining with wetness and the bottoms lined with mud, stood a young girl. She peered down at the ball and paused.

Whispers spread around the large group of children. She was the new girl. Rumor had it that she had killed her own parents. Swallowed whole when they had denied her of the newest doll that was popular. Rumor had it that she wasn’t a real girl, merely some imposter in disguise to trick the unsuspecting others into going into the land that lay beneath their beds and in the back of closets. Why was she here? Why had no one seen her parents? She moved in a couple of weeks ago, yet they had not been seen. She even walked to school alone, carrying her too-big backpack with a little tin lunchbox.

The little girl bent down and placed her pink lunchbox down with a tiny clang! She extended her hands towards the ball, picked it up, and then, ever so slowly, brought the ball to her knees, causing the hem of her pale green dress to turn a deep green with dirt and mud water, and threw the ball towards the group.

Everything was silent with the exception of the rain pattering on the ground around them and the occasional car that drove by. There they stood, all gazing at the new transfer student, wondering if what Tommy Jones had been saying about her was true. She didn’t look large enough to eat both of her parents.

Should we invite her to come play with us? The question was whispered by someone towards the back of the group, but exactly who it was, no one knew. No one cared. The only ting that they were focused on was what the new girl would do nest. Would she leave? Would she join them?

They stood there, neglecting their original purpose of standing in the rain, both the ball and the court forgotten.

Finally, a teacher emerged from the old brick school building, whose ancient bricks were crumbling and the concrete black with age, and called everyone in. the group hesitated, shifting uncomfortably while looking between the grey haired teacher and their newest addition to the student body. The teacher repeated that recess was over, only this time with an agitated tone.

One by on, the class started to file back into the warm, dry building through the double doors that led into the yellowish cafeteria. There, they would strip off their rain coats and boots so they didn’t get the whole school dirty with their mud tracks.

Only two remained motionless. The little blonde girl stood exactly where she was not four minutes ago when the rubber ball, once a bright red but now a dirty brown, bounced out of her square and into the clutches of the new girl. She squinted at her through the fat rain drops, and then ran to her. She extended her hand and looked at the new student in the face, something that everyone else had been unable to do.

Slowly, the new girl lifted her hand to grasps the blonde’s. They smiled at each other and walked off of the blacktop wordlessly. Whispers surrounded them as they crossed the cafeteria together, oblivious to their classmate’s stares that were a mixture of awe and worry.

You know what she’s doing, right? Tommy Jones whispered to the nearest ear. They’re going to the janitor’s closet so that the new girl can suck Sandy’s soul out.

Tommy. The grey haired teacher said sharply, disrupting most of the whispers that were spreading rapidly through the class.

The girls were oblivious to this. Whether they were not listening or couldn’t hear was unknown. But what was known was that, after weeks of being an outcast, the new girl finally met someone other than a teacher. People would have to start calling her by her name now. It was known that she would go running home, probably forgetting all about her large backpack and lunchbox, and tell her parents that she had met someone, and then beg them to let her come over for dinner and maybe even a sleepover. It was known that she had a friend.





Join the Discussion

This article has 11 comments. Post your own now!

michalina48 said...
Sept. 22, 2010 at 9:54 am
I thought the concept of this short story was nice. It definitely taught a lesson about being an outcast and how one person can make your day (or life) much easier. Detailing was very nice also.
 
barrmar said...
Sept. 22, 2010 at 9:54 am
I think the simplicity of this article made it that much more believable. It is such a true insight into the minds of third graders, with only wanting a friend and acceptance from the other classmates who are afraid of the unknown.
 
Pacwerdna said...
Sept. 22, 2010 at 9:53 am

Other than the two typos ("the only ting and one by on"), it seemed like a pretty relatable story for anyone whose lived the life of a playground kid.  Good job with that.

It was interesting that you didn't use quotation marks in the dialogue, almost as if the children weren't old enough to be using them.  If that was the case, certianl a good, unique way to speak in the story.

Next time, just make sure to go over you work or have someone go over it for y... (more »)

 
nabbi316 said...
Sept. 22, 2010 at 9:53 am
I definitely like this. You kind of explore the courage of girl to step out and befriend the new one. You also kind of show how the people don't like change and stick to their routines, like playing four-square being the routine and the new girl being the change. Nice.
 
turnip said...
Sept. 22, 2010 at 9:53 am
super cliched, bu nice imagery in the beginning. reminded me of that ray bradbury story.
 
fred said...
Sept. 22, 2010 at 9:52 am
The ending is strong.  Wonderful imagery.  It makes me wonder if you were this girl.  You relate the experience in a way that many can identify with as they look back on their own growing up experiences.
 
Aarika said...
Sept. 22, 2010 at 9:52 am
In third grade, I was one of those kids who were addicted to four square. It was really relatable and the themes were simple, which made it that much more meaningful.
 
Audrey L. said...
Jan. 7, 2010 at 6:37 pm
Very powerful. love your idea about friendship and loneliness.
 
Maria D. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Mar. 15, 2009 at 7:33 pm
this is very well written; its simplicity made it all the more powerful. great job =]
 
musiclvr123 said...
Jan. 31, 2009 at 7:40 pm
Simply Amazingly Awesomeful.
 
Jewaukeela said...
Jan. 7, 2009 at 11:15 pm
wow. aside from "ting" in line... you know what? It doesn't matter. Wow.
 
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