Essay 4K Running Away.
Under overcast skies she ran, her long hair clumped and wet, not from the moisture in the air, but from being held underwater in the fresh water pond at school. Along that dusty road home, she kept off the pavement, choosing instead, to always run on the opposite side, facing the oncoming traffic. She reasoned once, a long while ago, that since no one ever walked on that side of the road, there would be no need for conversation. No idle chatter with neighbours that usually ran along the lines of "Why are you so filthy today?" or "Why are you going home alone?" or "Where are your friends?"She never knew the answers to these questions, instead choosing to lower her eyes, bow her head, and run home. For her, ignorance is bliss, reality too harsh.
That day, she had gone to school, alone as always, her heart in her throat. She did not run today, as she usually did, but walked reluctantly, hungrily, and painfully. Mother did not make breakfast this morning as there was nothing left to eat, Father was hungry and angry, shouting and hitting Mum and her, blows falling like raindrops in a heavy downpour. It took some time, before Mum managed to reach out to her, and shove her out through the door, hard. It still hurt her, the stinging blows, but she was used to them by now. Yet as she stumbled crying, out the door, and started to run, she heard a loud scream. Something in her made her slow down. She didn't like being anxious. Anxiety fed on her, making her weak and frightened and uncoordinated.
At school, it was a normal day. Her sitting on the floor while others sat on chairs. Her standing at the back because she did not do her homework. She couldn't have done anyway because she didn't even own a pencil. She never spoke to anyone about her problems, finding that the way she was treated, perfectly logical. She couldn't afford the school fees, therefore she did not deserve a seat. She could not afford a pencil, therefore she could not do her homework. She liked logic. Logic was cold and clean and reasonable. Logic kept things simple. Simple things were easy to remember.
During science class, when the teacher brought them to the freshwater pond to observe frongs and tadpoles, she sat next to the edge and looked it. In the dark emerald pool, among the duckweeds and water hyacinths and water lettuce, someone foreign greeted her. Someone that moved as she did, with pretty golden locks and a young unblemished face. She stared and stared, moving her head from left to right, watching how the person on the other side of the pond did the exact same thing. She was transfixed, oblivious to the questions her teacher directed to the class, oblivious to the comments and questions directed to her. She wished she could be that person on the other side, her hair clean and well brushed, her face smooth and spotless, her eyes with that mixture of amusement and seduction, those tender lips, with mouth slightly agape. She was admiring herself, and she loved it.
Suddenly, a force pushed her into the river. "Haha, that probably made her cleaner," she heard a male voice say it, amidst her screaming, and the hoots of laughter from the rest of the clast. She gasped, reaching for the sides, only finding weeds and grass, weeds and grass but no shore...
She woke, and saw her classmates all around her, staring, eyes wide like dishes. She got up and ran, running away from the crowd, running away from the school. She ran faster than everyone, before anyone could stop her, she was out, and running for home.
Under overcast skies she ran, her long hair clumped and wet, covered with bits of earth and grass. Her hands were grimy and her shoes were soggy. Every footstep she made had a squishy sound. She thought to run home, running as always on the otherside of the road. Yet, it seemed too far already. Her home was long past, far behind. She continued running. Running away.
posted by Downhere. @ 9:05 pm
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