All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Orleanna
The walk to school was an act
The walk to school was an act
of cruelty for her in every season but
especially autumn. Children pay penance
in peculiar ways and on some
innate level we understood this
was
hers.
The graveyard never bothered me
for death was a word, not a
sentence. But Orleanna dreaded
the crisp mornings before
school when we donned clinging
tights and
shrouded sweaters
and surveyed the crunching earth
below. She liked the leaves she said.
She was a far more delicate creature
than I, and even though I was
younger, I always took her hand and
strung the leaf specks out of her
hair when we silently entered the
burial ground. Our enchanted procession
was a complicated one, an intricate
maze, a web we weaved through
the rows of muted stones, the little
boxes on a hillside. We always
made sure not to step on anyone,
that would be unkind Orleanna
always said.
I only met her mother that one
time as I paid my respects through
blurry eyes and blurry breath,
her mother taking my hand and combing
the leaf speck out of a strand of my
hair.
A whispered “thank you”
I can’t recall if she said it
or I.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.