Wanker
Posts: 785
Joined: 23.06.11
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Sorry i have been so in active lately guys, just had a huge amount on my plate so to speak. Exams, several family members in hospital and a few other minor things. However, my exams are FINALLY finished, and family members are slowly but surely all recovering. i still have a few things happening but i just wanted to apologize for my lack of activity.
Also got a wee story to share with you guys from my course work, some of you might appreciate it.
Waiting For….
Waiting for mum to say, “Have a nice day at school dear.” Or any sign she remembers me. Instead, I get up and go to school myself. A silent morning without a drop of conversation.
Sitting in class, listening to the lesson. Waiting for the teacher to notice me when she asks, “put up your hand if you know the answer.” I always know the answer, but I never get asked. She’ll ask Ashley beside me, Craig in front of me, even Carlos behind me, who does not speak English properly, but never me. I sit alone quietly getting on with my work, waiting for someone to bear in mind that I am here.
At break I sit alone. The girls play skipping ropes, the boys play football, but I am never asked to join in. When I try to talk to them they look straight through me and ignore what I have to say. So, I sit myself on the step waiting for a friend.
Back in class and I am still invisible. I raise my hand to ask for a new jotter. Perhaps the teacher cannot hear me? I ask louder, still no reply, I give up. After an hour a new girl comes in. I smile at her, maybe she will be my friend?
“You can have that seat,” says the teacher pointing to my desk. But where am I to go? Can she not see that I am sitting here? I move to the seat at the other end of the class. The seat next to Andy Richards, the class bully. I sit waiting for him to annoy me; even he does not see me.
At lunch I go up to the new girl, Sindy. I introduce myself and stand waiting for a reply. My eyes fill up with tears. Will anyone ever bother with me? Feeling dejected, I walk away towards the school gate. Hoping that the teacher will call me, “Lucia! Get back in the school yard!” But no one does.
I walk to the graveyard where my dad is buried. My eyes again fill with tears. I did use to have friends. I walk past many graves and the sad mourners, waiting for them to ask why I am not in school, they don’t. I sit on a bench waiting for the sun to warm me up, but I am still cold. I get up and walk to my dad’s grave. I sit waiting for a sign that he remembers me….And then I see it. A small gravestone in the shape of a heart. I have never noticed it before. Strange, for I was here only two weeks ago. I walk over to it. It’s lovely, surrounded with flowers. I kneel down and read it,
“Here lies Lucia Williams, died 20th April 2004.”
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