Snow and Dread — Non-Fiction (WIP)
The elementary school was brand new when I was transferred there. Elburn was becoming overcrowded with the upper-middle class swarming to the quiet town to raise their families. With an overabundance of children, the elementary school was split into two different locations. I had never been to the other school, but mine was a two story brick building with a lime green roof along everywhere, and behind it was the disappointing playground. I remember being saddened by the lack of sand of the old school, replaced by strange smelling mulch wood chips, finding it odd that they wanted kids to be safe, but if you fell in them, you landed with a handful of splinters. They most likely wanted to avoid kids throwing sand at each other but I don’t think they have ever had wood chips thrown at their backs as a kid, and I’m thankful they didn’t have to deal with that.
I began in 2nd grade, and though new children were relocated to the new school as well, I got along fine with them until 3rd grade. Somewhere down the line, due to my confusion of what lice was (as I had never heard of them before then, nor had I heard of dandruff), and unfortunately having a bit of dandruff one day, I was accused of having head lice.
What followed was a plague-like avoidance and ostracization by my entire grade, followed by the entire school. My classmates ran from me during recess if I went too close to them, and during class, they would spray an invisible spray while making an audible sssssssttttt noise to “disinfect” anything I touched (doorknobs, pencils, whatever I touched was no longer pure and had lice on it.).
The only time I was ever really able to play with anyone was during winter, and it had to be a good winter. The kind of snow that your parents wouldn’t dare let you stand at the bus stop without your full boots, snow pants, hat, gloves, jacket, winter coat. You had to prepare for the war of elements. You had to ask them for the specific gloves that don’t let snow leak in, though, otherwise what’s the point in even going outside?
I loved making forts as a kid. Snowmen were boring and more laborious alone. But a good snow fort that’s dug out from a snow plow pile, as long as you had the time (about 45 minutes will do), and as long as you slid along the ice on the pavement behind the gym building to the spot with the piles, you had plenty of time and effort in you to start a good fort.
I would find rocks to use to shovel snow deeper until i hit the dirt. I would pile the snow on top of the sharp wall I made to go higher and higher. There wasn’t any plan to have a snow fight, since kids didn’t really seem to play with me, but somehow I impressed other kids enough to make them want to help me. We combined forts, broke down walls between each other and expanded the forts every recess, everyday. Everything felt nicer in the winter, and I felt like I had friends for once at recess.
The feeling melted with the snow.
With the snow gone, they went on like nothing happened. It wasn’t like we had conversations, we just worked together to make a cool fort and then it was gone. The bullying continued into 4th grade, when I was completely outcasted. Any kid that was in my class that knew nothing about my “problem” was quickly informed and in result, the entire school began to avoid me. I specifically remember kids in my brother’s 1st grade class seeing me and screaming as they ran, thinking that they would die if they went near me.
It took them until this year as well to even check me for lice, specifically on a Saint Patrick’s Day. They called me down to the principal’s office (making the children mock TV situations with full oooooh noises and everything), and as I walked into the connected nurse’s office, I specifically remember that they tried to make light of the situation by saying a “leprechaun” told them that I may have lice. I did not. They did nothing to stop the children from what they were doing, and I didn’t tell on anyone because for the most part, no one physically hurt me. I was told by some teacher at the godforsaken school that if you are not being hurt, don’t be a tattle tale. I took that literally to heart and I still hate that woman. There were days that I would tell myself on the bus to school, “I will not speak, not say a word, I won’t even move unless I need to. Then they can’t make fun of me, if I don’t speak.” The only reason I got through any of this without breaking down is most likely due to my heavy ADHD medication. Robotized and numb, I collected rocks alone during recess, when there wasn’t any snow, hoping to find a dinosaur fossil somehow, to make me rich and so I wouldn’t have to go to school anymore.
I just wanted friends. I wanted to be an archaeologist/paleontologist. I wanted to be in control of my body and know what was wrong with me. I wanted to be able to speak and not be afraid and it took me probably until high school to even gain that ability, though the dreams of being an archaeologist were long dead, since realizing that you have to actually do well in science classes to become one. I wanted to be loved, and I still do, but it feels some days like I’m still trying, and I’m still afraid to speak some days and I return to that 8 year old girl that wanted to be able to scream.
