Swinging from the handlebars, it felt like I was miles from the ground. Ms Lawson told me not to, that I'd hurt myself. No way was I taking her advice.
There was something in me, even then, that knew instinctively not to trust her. Who'd want to work as a teacher? Stomping around a playground telling kids what to do. Whoever gets their kicks that way just isn't right.
The rusted metal was searing into my palms, scraping the skin. I tried to swing to the next bar. Fell flat on my back. But I had decided as soon as I began to swing, that no matter what happened, no matter how painful the fall, there was no way I was letting her win.
I knew she was standing there, watching me like a hawk. I tumbled onto my side, turned to her and smiled. Man, it was worth the pain to see her looking so mad. That's the thing with teachers. You can't let them win.
I came back to the capital city I live in after a weekend at home. My mother had packed courgette, cheese and an apple in my bag, along with a beautiful ornament she bought for me in the market (which gives me an alarming amount of joy every time I look at it, considering it's an inanimate object). This is the usual, she is forever helping me along the way in life - gorgeous dinners, helpful articles, advice and an attentive ear - she is truly remarkable.
Her sense of humour is one of the most miraculous things about her, even in the darkest moments she finds something to laugh at. I love this about her, and have definitely picked it up myself. She laughs at herself frequently, a trait I wish we shared.
I take myself too seriously sometimes, but she always brings me back down to earth.
I'm independent, hilarious, intelligent, full of integrity and exceptionally stubborn. I wouldn't be able to admit to these things without her constant encouragement throughout my life. She has given me the confidence to use positive adjectives about myself. Something I thought was inevitable with loving parents, not so.
I'm training to be a therapist - something I couldn't have done without my mother. She's always marvelling at my capacity for empathy, she really doesn't see that I inherited this from her. I wish I could instil in her the confidence she's instilled in me.
Thunderstruck
Jessy and I were chalk and cheese. Fire and ice. She was fiery, passionate and loud, loud, loud. I would stand and glare at the boys she flirted with. In her faded blue jeans and torn leather jacket, she was my god. Why she wasted her time with those morons was beyond me.
After school, we'd drive around town in my dad's '57 Chevy, smoking, in silence. I was sure we were the definition of cool in those days. The best days of my life, turned out they were the devil's last chance.
When she turned on me, my world collapsed. Those balls of steel she had that I'd once so admired, scared the shit out of me. The pillars of heaven that once sustained me had come crashing down.
After hiding in the bathroom stall during lunch for a month, I was desperate to escape. The rolling thunder of my rage hit in waves. I sat with my dried-up tears, and was determined that as soon as was humanly possible, I'd be out of that town like a bat out of hell.
Thunderstruck
Jessy and I were chalk and cheese. Fire and ice. She was fiery, passionate and loud, loud, loud. I would stand and glare at the boys she flirted with. In her faded blue jeans and torn leather jacket, she was my god. Why she wasted her time with those morons was beyond me.
After school, we'd drive around town in my dad's '57 Chevy, smoking, in silence. I was sure we were the definition of cool in those days. The best days of my life, turned out they were the devil's last chance.
When she turned on me, my world collapsed. Those balls of steel she had that I'd once so admired, scared the shit out of me. The pillars of heaven that once sustained me had come crashing down.
After hiding in the bathroom stall during lunch for a month, I was desperate to escape. The rolling thunder of my rage hit in waves. I sat with my dried-up tears, and was determined that as soon as was humanly possible, I'd be out of that town like a bat out of hell.
The woman who doesn't know she's beautiful. Her outfits are always described in some sort of sexual/erotic way - how her dress hugs her hips, she bites her lips and laughs, her eyes dancing. The majority of the time it's women's outfits described, and I could not care less what the character is wearing.
Here and Now
Inch by inch I plod along,
a Pilot wary of the clouds.
The Lines aren't ready yet.
I cannot form a reply.
I am most honest when I am Silent.
I Whisper 'I'm Fine', but it's a lie.
Like an iron fist to my chest,
the pain you caused then is still here.
You tell me there is Safety in numbers, it's a Given,
when I was in third Grade I may have believed this.
But as groups get Bigger and Multiply,
there is more Divide than ever.
In my tower of solace, I gaze at the River.
Each Brick protects me. And I feel safer, safer
Like that girl in the nursery Rhyme,
I am dancing, dancing, but completely alone.