Back in time- Dominique's POV
22 November 2023🥀
"I've been thinking about a certain phrase a lot lately." I tell Leonardo as we make our way to school.
Leonardo has that expression on his face, his dark eyes amused like he expects me to say something stupid.
Jerk!
"That phrase that says: Everything happens for a reason. Like by everything does it mean everything, everything or just some things."
With Leonardo's expectation having been punched in the face, he pauses for a good second. The second ends and he simply shrugs, not the least bit interested.
I'm not sure if he's too lazy to think with me or being moody.
But despite Leonardo's leonardedness I can't help but think about this phrase.
Everything happens for a reason.
It's a brain hurting exercise that's kept me awake at night.
Could it be true?
Everything from those weird baby pictures my mother took of me, in which I always had my foot in my mouth.
Everything from that time I was seven and I stole those cakes my mother made for church which led to me becoming sick on the way there and puking in her handbag.
Everything about those stories my father would tell me every night that always ended with something weird happening in the end.
Everything from when I was younger and would sit by the stairs of my home those late Friday nights just to watch my parents dance completely content in each other's company.
Everything from dating Cassandra in grade nine who was insanely beautiful but also quite frankly, insane.
Everything from befriending Leonardo, who's like the best guy I know but shouldn't know that otherwise his head will grow big and he'll fly away. Duh.
Everything from the secret notes I've been sending and receiving for months with a girl who's still anonymous to me.
Everything from the horse joke that-
"I really don't know Dominique."
I nod, looking at Leonardo for a moment. " I don't think it's completely true."
He says nothing.
" Think about it Leo." I continue.
"Everything happens for a reason.If someone told me that when I was younger I'd psychoanalyze everything about my life. I'd think about every detail that probably doesn't matter and wonder what the reason for it would be.I think that's how people go crazy."
Cassandra, definitely.
"...Where is all this thinking coming from?" Leonardo asks.
An awkward chuckle escapes my lips.
Could I really tell him that all this thinking is the cause of his mother and all the pains she's caused in about a week.
"Would you be mad if I said it's because of you."
Leonardo says nothing.
"Well not you- you but all that's happened with your mom.It got me thinking."
If only heaven had mom's for sale then I'd totally buy Leonardo one.
"I just wish I could buy you a better mom or something."
More laughter escapes my lips but it's awkward and forced, I look away.
"I just don't understand the reason for it all." The words come out a lot more frustrated.
Leonardo's silence only seems to make this rising of emotions in my heart intense.
How on earth could one woman causing pain to her own son have reason?
How does her leaving then coming back years later then leaving again have a reason?
How?!
How can I make sense of this with Leonardo when all I have are these cringey quotes that sound nice but have a really trash meaning.
The silence hangs over us heavily and I feel this overwhelming pressure to fill it with words of comfort but I'm empty, my brain stuttering through hopeful quotes that will probably make Leonardo want to punch me in the gut.
Does this have a reason?!
These quotes bring no comfort instead it's a brain hurting, soul searching exercise that makes you mad.
For some reason, I chuckle maybe to fill the silence, maybe to stop thinking but it catches Leonardo's attention.
"I think it's a stupid saying," I tell him.
"Why?"
"It just is..." a pause, " I mean does this happen for a reason?" I kick a rock on the pavement and it skids steps ahead.
Leonardo's lips twitch upwards.
"Does this happen for a reason?" I start jumping up and down as we walk.
Leonardo's smile broadens, his dimples appearing.
I'm a little out of breath,my heart hammering in my chest. I stop jumping before I slip and fall face first on the pavement.
Leonardo's dark eyes hold mine with clear amusement, awaiting my next point.
"Does this happen for a reason?" I flick his forehead hard with my fingers.
Leonardo chuckles, the dimples on his cheeks deepen but it's the spark of life in his dark eyes that relieves a little bit of the tension in my heart.
"Does this conversation happen for a reason?"
I'm looking for another thing to say even though it's clear Leonardo gets my point.
Maybe this is more for me than it is for him.
Maybe-
I do a double take at someone who I catch a glimpse of from the corner of my eye.
A short dark skinned girl wearing the navy blue Vestalia uniform catches my eyes. It's the way that her shoulder length braids almost cover her face as she walks with her head down. It's the way she holds her black bag by its straps.
I've never seen her before.
" Hi!"
To prove my point even further to Leonardo I'm calling out to her.
Her head lifts up, her eyes meeting mine as her short braids part a little so I can see more of her face and her eyes that are a lovely colour brown.
Her brows furrow and she's got that look on her face that almost makes me laugh.
That looks that says: I'm trying to remember if I know you and where I know you from and how I can escape this situation if it gets too awkward.
I smile at her, and the tension in her brows is eased a little once she realizes that this is the first we're interacting.
"Just wanted to say that you're beautiful."
I'm sure she's been told this a million times before.
She's caught off guard and says nothing for a good second, casting her brown eyes away from my green ones.
"Th-Thank you."
Her voice! Like the sweetest of whispers.
Now I'm curious...
"What's your name?" I ask her, walking alongside her and keeping up with her pace. Leonardo lags on a little behind me.
"Thandiwe." Her smile fits her small face and reaches her brown eyes in an easy glow.
"I'm Dominique and he's no one important." I point to Leonardo and he simply laughs.
Surprisingly, Thandiwe laughs as well. It catches my attention because it's barely audible and subtle like she isn't allowing herself to fully let it out.
We step into the school gates but I'm still staring down at her, smiling.
This is weird. Let's quickly cut this off, I tell myself.
" It was nice meeting you. Do well in your exams."
"You too." She whispers, not speaks.
The soft smile is still on her face and she turns the other way, out of sight and completely out of mind.
Completely, at least that's what I tell myself.
I turn to Leonardo, looking him straight in the eye, glad that I've made my point come across and that's it.
"Did that happen for a reason?"
❄️❄️❄️
It's after school and I'm stepping out of the boy's bathroom when I hear it.
"Help! Help me! Someone!"
The smile on my face is automatic at the sound of Mrs Jones' voice. Loud and dramatic like she's performing.
It's also awfully annoying.
"Anyone!"
I turn around and I'm met with the sight of Mrs Jones carrying a huge stack of papers and files so high up I can't see her face. The papers are weighty, pushing her back, so she's stumbling trying her best to keep her footing while also making sure the papers and files don't fall.
I'm laughing at her, with the freedom of her not knowing who it is.On the plus side, highschool is practically over so no more detention from her.
Thank God!
If I was God, I'd blow wind on her right now and make her fall happen faster.
I should definitely walk past her.
"For goodness sake! Help me!"
I could definitely help her fall-
"Dominique! I can see you. Help me!"
Woah! I'm not even that close to her.
After considering that running away would only cause more trouble I decided to make my way and help her carry some of the papers.
"Could you be a little faster! I-"she's cut short when she loses hold on the papers and they all fly out like violent confetti, smacking the floor.
Mrs Jones fiery eyes meet mine, enraged. "Look what you did! Now I have to pick all this up, reorder them and send them to the office again."
I'm baffled. I'm an innocent bystander who just stepped out of the bathroom.
"Mam, I didn't do anything."
"That's the problem." She's crouched on the floor, picking up the papers.
Despite my feelings, I crouch down as well helping her pick the papers and file up as well.
Instead of thanking me, Mrs Jones scoffs. " And you'll be coming to my class. You'll be reordering everything with me. You'll be checking the marks with me and you'll help me send them to the office."
I'll be doing none of that, I want to say but instead I'm staring at her, gaping like a fish.
"But-"
"Think of this as punishment. After all these years of troubling me you want to trouble me even when you're leaving."
"But I didn't do-"
"You were always so very talkative in class. Always having something to say like a news reporter." She carries on like that while I help her with the two stacks of growing papers and files.
I can still run away, I think to myself.
Something catches my attention. One of the names on the exam papers seems to stand out among the rest even though the writing is small.
Thandiwe
My eyes flick to the grade.
Grade 10.
I hold the paper and the morning's event comes back to me fresh like it was always on the back of my mind.
I shake off those thoughts, placing her paper on the growing pile of papers. Mrs Jones and I are soon carrying the pile of papers back to her class, the door shutting behind us.
I get to work quickly once she explains everything that must be done. I feel like telling her that this is child labour but decide against it as I order the papers according to the class register she's given me.
I'm seated at the back corner, doing the work that Mrs Jones is supposed to be doing while she sits at her desk and sips coffee, pretending to be busy.
Her eyes meet mine and she sends me a glare to get back to work and each and every time I do it.
Unfortunately, boring and hair pulling work like this only leads to having more and more thoughts that consume the silence.
Maybe I should say something to her.
"Mrs Jones."
"No you can not have another bathroom break. We both know that this time you'll surely run away."
I chuckle. " Actually, I wanted to talk."
"When do you not?" She rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee.
"The students in your classes, do they matter to you?"
She pauses mid sip,her eyes holding mine with this expression I can't put a name to.
"Why do you ask such?"
"I don't know." I stare down at the paper in my hand with Thabo written in the name part.
"Thabo in grade ten. How was he in your class?"
A silence ensues for a good second. "Very disruptive, almost like you but he on the other hand fails with flying colours."
"Does that say more about him as a student or you as a teacher?"
The words once spoken out loud seem to take a meaning of their own.
"Not to offend you or anything Mrs Jones." I quickly add, " I want to know more about -"
"About what?"
She's curious. Something she's never been with me. She's always either angry or surprised or annoyed.
"Everything."
"Everything?" Her brows furrow.
"Does everything happen for a reason?"
Mrs Jones puts her coffee mug down. She looks like she doesn't know what to do with herself. She's making these weird attempts of wanting to stand up but ends up staying seated. She exhales.
"Do you want to kill yourself Dominique? If so I want to tell you that life is worth-"
I'm laughing and it's loud and it echoes in the classroom. Mrs Jones' eyes have softened but the annoyance on her face isn't missed by me.
"Me want to live, Mrs Jones." I tell her.
She rolls her eyes and I can practically see her, holding back the urge to correct my grammar like she lives to do.
"So what's this nonsense you're going on about?"
"I just want to know if Thabo." I flip to the next paper and then next," or Michelle or Juliet were in your class for some reason even if it's one."
Mrs Jones nods. "Not sure on that one but I definitely don't believe that things are meaningless. I can tell you what I remember or think about them."
"Sure."
Mrs Jones lips do this weird thing where they tilt upwards on both sides and it's quite earth shaking that it's directed at me.
"Thabo gave the best speeches. He knew none of what he was talking about but was absolutely confident spending a whole ten minutes speaking nonsense."
The laughter escapes my lips and unlike the last five years of highschool, Mrs Jones doesn't tell me to shut up or get out of the classroom.
I place Thabo's paper on the growing stack of ordered papers. "What about Michelle?" I find myself asking, as I place her paper on top of Thabo's.
" Michelle." Mrs Jones pauses, her brows furrowing in thought. "Oh! Yes, Michelle."
She chuckles, taking a sip of her coffee.
"That girl wrote like she was in a storm writing her last words. I could not see a thing."
"Juliet."
Another pause.
Mrs Jones strains to remember her, the silence stretching on longer. I don't think she remembers the girl.
Who can blame Mrs Jones? She's been teaching for twenty years and continues to teach two grades.
"It's okay." I wave it off, placing Juliet's paper away, as I tick her on the register.
Mrs Jones shakes her head. " No. I surely remember the girl."
She spends time straining her mind to remember Juliet so that we can find some sort of meaning to why she was in her class.
I don't know why Mrs Jones is so determined to do this with me?
Hopefully she doesn't think I want to kill myself?
Mrs Jones struggles to remember. I put Juliet's paper away and continue working. I'm in my thoughts, finding comfort in conversations I have with myself.
"Yes!"Mrs practically screams her eyes wide. It jolts my heart, almost making me fall off my seat.
I forgot we were talking. I've ticked many others on the list and the stack of ordered papers has grown. There's just one paper left.
My eyes meet Mrs Jones again. She's got that smile on her face again.
"Juliet always wore that yellow bow on her hair. I yelled at her everyday to take it off. I confiscated it but gave it back to her at the end of the day. She'd always put it on the next day and..." Mrs Jones exhales, " I don't know."
" Thank you for trying Mrs Jones."
There are six words I never thought I would say.
Mrs Jones nods, her expression neutral until it falls. " I shouldn't have said that."
"What?"
She hesitates. " I told you that your future wasn't bright and -"
"With utmost respect Mrs Jones. I learned a long time ago that my future doesn't depend on what people think or assume it will be."
She's taken aback. " I'm relieved you're leaving the school and I know that you'll pass."
I nod, not having anything else to say.
"It doesn't have to all be meaningless,"she adds. "I think it's us that has to find meaning to things."
Mrs Jones taught me for five years of my life but it's only today, right now, that her words seem to come into contact with the part of myself that listens.
"Maybe you're right."
"Let's do the last one." Mrs Jones suggests.
Nodding, I look down at the exam paper and I'm shocked to see the name that's written.
"Thandiwe."
Mrs Jones doesn't have to strain her mind for this one. It comes easily,her eyes alight.
"Barely says a word but her eyes are always talking."
When I'm walking back home alone, I'm deep in thought about Leonardo's pain and situation about life and highschool and the end of all things.
I'm having three am thoughts in the late afternoon which is clearly illegal.
Everything happens for a reason.
The quote rings over and over in my mind the whole way home.
I think not.
That's the conclusion.
So maybe everything doesn't happen for a reason but we can make it have a reason as Mrs Jones said.I can make it have a reason and I can make it matter by bringing meaning to it.
Or I should stop having these world ending thoughts and just buy a doughnut.
A doughnut sounds nice.
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