Even the daunting first day of school is a part of your collection of precious memories.
******
I kept twirling a pencil with a fluffy red head in between my fingers.
"Do you want to talk, about that night?" Damon asked. I shook my head. I knew he meant it for my welfare only, but how could someone talk about something that brings them so much pain.
They say 'talking helps,' they say 'time heals all.' You know what I say? they are all full of crap. Time does not heal all, it only makes it worse. Talking forces us to re-live those painful memories and I would rather have them buried in the deepest pits of my brain. Never to be remembered again, never to be brought up.
"Ev, look at me," he held my chin and turned my head towards him.
"You have to open up, how long will you keep it inside of you? I know you are trying to look strong and believe me I know how strong you are. However, if you keep suppressing your emotions, one day the burden will break you. That night traumatized you too." My heart melted at his words. But I could not bring myself to talk, to open up.
I just kept staring at the pencil in my hand. I always had a fascination with red and fluffy stuff, which would explain my blood red, fur covered wallpaper. I had fond memories associated with the pencil. It reminded me of the time when we, the Jones were a family who promised to stay together, protect each other and support each other no matter what. That felt like a long time ago, eleven years ago.
Eleven years ago
Securing the heavy back pack on my shoulder, I slid out of our red minivan. Beth soon followed suit. I clasped her tiny hand in mine and stared right in front of us, at the crowd of screaming and laughing children. All unfamiliar faces.
I was aware of all horror stories about first days in new school. The continuous retelling of the stories had lead to this moment being one of my worst nightmares (meeting Freddy Krueger was on the top). The school with its grey coloured walls looked more like a prison and less like a school. The classrooms with their tinted glass window gave the impression of torture chambers.
"This place gives me the creeps," I whispered into Beth's ears. She looked up at me with her big doe like eyes and gave a slight nod.
"Yes! it feels like the castle of the evil witch," she replied. We turned around to face our parents.
"Okay my dears, few words before I send you off," she said while brushing of the imaginary dirt from our uniforms. She then fixed our already neat and tidy ponytails. "Be careful, don't get hurt, finish your lunch, study hard and make a lot of new friends. Okay?"
We could just nod. I really did not want to go, all I wanted to do is escape.
"Also kiddos, no running away," uncle Aaron thoughtfully added. How did he know of my plan?
I looked at my family for the last time, before I am sent to my doom. My entire clan-grandparents, uncle Aaron, his wife, and my parents- all came to send my sister and I to this prison. Looking at their smiling faces, I felt angry, I felt betrayed. How could they be happy when we are being sentenced to meet our demise?
"Oh I almost forgot," dad announced before fishing something out of his pocket. It was two identical pencils with red, fluffy head.
"For luck," with that he handed both of us a pencil each.
"Why are we so early? we still have an hour to class," I said as a final attempt to escape. All I got was my parents 'serious' glare and the usual comment, "You know the drill."
Of course I knew the bloody drill. My parents had a nasty habit of reaching a place way before the scheduled time. As a result, when we had a flight to catch we reached airports two hours before check-in counters were open. We reached party venues even before the hosts started to prepare. Only because of my begging, we didn't arrive earlier to school (I mean before the school opened).
I lost all hope after I received 'the glare.' Holding Beth's hand I started walking towards the school building. Looking at the students in identical uniforms laughing with their friends or standing in tiny clusters, I already started missing my friends back home.
As we were about to enter the building we were greeted by woman, in her late 40's or early 50's, and a girl about my age. The woman's grin presented her as the female version of Count Olaf, not a very nice sight. It confirmed my suspicion about this place.
"Hello, I am your coordinator, and this is Alisha," she pointed towards the girl."She will be your buddy. Which means she will show you to your class and help you both with anything you need."
Alisha was probably the only normal person I had seen in this school. She did not look evil or creepy. Neither did she have the haughtiness that came with responsibilities and high positions. She looked cute, even friendly with her dimpled smile and pigtails.
After the coordinator left us, she spoke up.
"So what are your names?" she asked. "My name is Evellyn and this is my sister Elizabeth," I said while pointing towards me and then Beth.
We followed her to our classes. She gave us detailed information about the school, its rules, all the opportunities it had and all that propaganda stuff. I realised that she is a bigger goody-two-shoes than I was. I also realised that we had an actual chance of becoming friends.
We reached Beth's class, time to say goodbye.
"Don't forget the lucky pencil and just survive the day," I whispered into her ear before shoving her into the classroom. Then Alisha and I started walking towards our class, which happened to be the same class.
"The teachers can be boring sometimes, no all the times so..."before she could finish, I added, "So I will just sleep." We stared at each other with serious and grim expressions, before erupting into fits of laughter, which brought us a lot of attention. Looks like I made a new friend and it also seems that the day won't be as bad as I presumed it would be. I think it was all because of that lucky pencil.
PRESENT
Where was the pencil's luck when I desperately needed it? I kept twisting and playing with pencil's head. All happy memories were flashing before my eyes.
"Ev, you need to open up. You still have those nightmares. Alisha and I, we both worry about you," Damon said.
"CAN YOU PLEASE STOP!" I shouted at him. It felt good to release all the pent up anger, but the relief was soon replaced by guilt.
"I am sorry," I said softly, "Damon, I am fine. You and Alisha don't need to worry about me. I am good." I am not okay, I am not good. I feel hollow, damaged, but I am too scared to say it aloud. I fear if I did that, this feeling would become very real and very permanent.
How do I tell them that I still have nightmares about that night. I still remember the wails, I remember the flashes of light. I still dream about the blood and people rushing past me. How do you explain the feeling of helplessness, weakness, the anger, the trauma, the hate without garnering pity, without hearing the common phrase 'I am sorry.' It makes it all very tangible.
Going for therapy isn't an option, because going there would solidify the reality, that something is actually wrong with me. The fact that we are broken would become so clear. It would stand out like a slash of red paint in a glaringly white room. Moreover, I don't think we had the money for therapy for the entire clan. Sometimes I wondered that if we did not move eleven years ago to this place, would our life had taken the same path.
I felt frustrated, angry, helpless, confused and most of all hatred towards life. I channeled all of the pent up emotions and snapped the pencil into half and threw it at the corner of the room. Damon must have noticed this, cause he pulled me into a tight embrace.
The pencil never brought me any luck, but now it won't remind me of happier days and bring more pain.
Eleven year old Evellyn
******
Hello dear readers,
What did you think about this chapter? I admire Evellyn so much as she has been through so much yet she finds the strength to fight for the welfare of her family. Till now who is your favourite character and why do you like them?
Before I bid you farewell, I have to give one of my usual reminders. First days of new schools may not be like a horror movie, sometimes a new school has a better environment that your old (at least that was for me. I was excited about my first day in my new school). However, if that is not the case for you and you are ragged or bullied continuously, do talk to someone. There are people out there to help you, who care about you. Talk to them, it maybe a teacher, your parents, family, friends anybody. Keeping it within yourself won't do you or anybody else any good. So speak and take a step to prevent bullying (even cyber bullying is bullying).
I am against bullying as I was bullied in school. I told my teacher and my parents (also gave the dude a piece of my mind), and he never bullied anyone again.
Okay that is it with the reminder.
THANK YOU for reading my story till this far, I hope you all liked it. I will try to update as soon as possible. [Also add it to your library or reading list to get notifications about the update].
Please do VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE:)
P.s. there is no song in this chapter too.
Spread Love,
Thedreamer64