Tears of a Child by Louise Kinnear - HTML preview

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Chapter 2

Walking to school was very long.  It felt like a road that never ended, as if we were never going to get there on time. “Come on Abby, we’re going to be late if you keep dragging your heels like this.” I said as I was thinking of my embarrassing day ahead. I have to prepare myself for all the pointing and corridor whispers that will occur today. I’m expecting the worse from Angela, a girl in my class.  She stays across the road from us, so everything was entirely visible to her and her family.  She is not the nicest person not to mention her dreadful friends. The teasing and name calling was so unpleasant the last time.  They said that I would be taken away and given to people that do not love me. I would be eating sand for dinner and not be able to bath for days. How am I going to get through this again? I can’t speak to my mother.  She is hurting as is, and to still tell her of my petty quarrels at school is just not appropriate.  I lifted my eyes off the floor as we approached the gate. There she is. She cannot even wait for me to enter the premises of the school. Abby was already torn apart, I was not going to let her hear all this nonsense that’s about to leave Angela’s lips. “You go ahead, I will catch up with you in front of the hall” I said and gently squeezed her hand. Facing my fears I stopped in front of Angela, expecting the worst. She put her arms around my neck and said softly “I am here when you need to talk”.  I nearly collapsed with shock. “Thank you” I whispered as I nodded my head. “Mmmm” I thought to myself.  Something does not fit here.  Something is up so I will definitely keep my guard up. I don’t trust her as far as I can see her.

The day felt long and I could not really concentrate in class. My mind kept tracking back to the incident. At break, I sat alone with my awful memories of last night.  It just kept playing over and over in my head as I stared in the midst of the field where Abigail sits.  I saw Abby, smiling at her friend Chantal.  They shared everything and I knew that Chantal was trying to cheer her up and motivate her.  I felt relieved actually. Knowing that she actually has someone to open up to and express her heartache. As the bell rang for the last period, I realized that I finally had the opportunity to express my own feelings. Art class was one of my favorite subjects just to blow off some steam.  The topic or subject of our sketches for today was abstract.  “Exactly what I needed.” I whispered to myself. I sketched with chalk. I started to sketch a woman with a white cloak lying on the floor with her back towards me. A white soft and elegant cloak that flowed over her body as she lay there so still; as motionless as my mother did last night. I used black chalk to sketch a man standing next to her, chest puffed out and his fist drawn back to give her another blow. The anger built up again as I changed the entire background to red. Light red, dark red... all different shades of red you can possibly think of. I jumped as the bell rang.  The raging anger was frightened away with the ring of the last bell of the day.  I need to get to Abby.  I need to find out how her day was, how she is feeling and what I can do ease her pain. I can see her.  She is quite a distance ahead of me.  “Abby, Abigail... wait up!” I yelled. They continued walking as I ran my little legs off to get to them.  “Hi Angela, how are you?” I asked out of breath.  “Oh, hi Gabriella, I’m fine, thank you.” she answered with a very concerned look on her face, her eyes indicating me to look at Abby. The tears were running down her face. Her face expressed fear and her arms were wrapped around her stomach. Tension pain is what my mom called it. I stood at the gate for a moment, gathering strength to enter the house of darkness. I am dreading to see the scars and bruises of my mother.  Everything is silent in the house, from outside.  The car is not there so my father definitely went to work today. I exhale with relief to know that nothing will happen now. Lifting the rusty old handle of the brittle wooden gate slowly, gently and softly to ensure I don’t disturb the peace in the house, I walked towards the back door where I always entered and there she stood. She is so petite and so fragile trying her best to give us the best. The whistle of the kettle confirmed that our lunch was ready. My mom made the best sandwiches ever... even if she put just butter on them.  You could taste the love and appreciation in her heart with every bite you took.  Today was my favorite, peanut butter and Illovo syrup.  I love the texture together.  It is almost like my parents, my mother is as sweet and beautiful as flowing syrup and my father is as smooth and tangy, but now and then you get the pieces of peanuts that you had to chew a bit, as the peanut butter.  My father was chewy... especially when he turns into a monster.  “How was your day” she asked us every day and we always said it was fine. We did not want to burden her with our tiffs from school, knowing that she is crying for help inside.  I thanked her for the lovely lunch and excused myself from the table. I sat in my room thinking of my day.  I hope that I jotted all my homework down.  I opened my bag slowly and pulled out my favorite subject first. Mathematics was quick and easy because I understood it so well, so I will do that quickly.  One two three and I was normally done. Could not believe myself what was happening; I had to redo one sum three times. It is taking me so much longer to complete my homework today.  I wish my life was different. I wish my life was a little bit less complicated. As a matter of fact, I just wish my life was normal.  I think I can handle normal. I wish for once in my life I can go to school without being worried about what was happening at home. Phew, finally all my homework is done. Mathematics, Afrikaans and Natural Science all completed to the best of my ability.  I believe it is fine... actually, I hope it is all fine.