A Red Blouse & Jean Capris

Hello all my dear readers! So recently,for some reason an old memory has conjured up in my mind and since being conjured has been a constant thought. Its always on my mind, at the most random moments and I honestly don’t know why it occurred to me. I’ll just start thinking about it and then I’ll relive the memory several times before my mind is satisfied. This memory first appeared to me a few weeks before school ended. I had to leave school early for family reasons and since I was home I saw many of the neighborhood kids I had gone through elementary and middle school with. This doesn’t mean we all were friends in any way, but they know who I am and I know who they are. I guess you could say, we grew up together since we lived in the same neighborhood, separated by only a few blocks. Arriving at my house and seeing these people and who they are now, I couldn’t help but think of who they use to be…and that’s when this memory infected my mind. I guess by now you all want to know what I’m talking about exactly. I’ll go through the memory  before explaining why I think it is haunting me. Here it is…..

I’m sitting in my elementary school hallway with a red blouse, jean capris and old tennis shoes on. I’m hunched up in the little corner between the class room door and hallway wall, wishing I could somehow disappear. Just become invisible, at least for a little while. My knees are bent up pressed against my face which is hot from tears I had tried to hold back. The day had started off like shit and I knew it was only going to get worst. That particular morning I woke up ready to go to school, only to discover that all my clothes were dirty. My mother ( I never call her that) hadn’t washed any of my clothes that weekend and so I was left with nothing to wear. She was never really a responsible woman. Except when it came to boos, she always knew where they were. As usual that weekend she had drunk herself into a slumber. It was Monday meaning she wouldn’t be up until around 4 that evening so of course my grandparents were the ones who had to wake me up. After making my discovery I told my grandma that I had no school clothes. She searched but couldn’t find any either. However, she didn’t want me to miss school so with no other option she began to search through her own closet. That’s where she found an old red blouse and a pair of jean capris. I was going to go to school in an old woman’s clothes…I was going to wear grandma clothes. And so I found myself standing outside my classroom door watching the teacher scribble on the board as my fellow peers pretended to pay attention. As I stood and watched I was scared to my very core because I knew as soon as I entered the room everyone would laugh. They would take one look at my outfit and somehow know I was wearing granny clothes. Then they’d laugh at me until I was driven form the classroom out of sheer embarrassment and humiliation. Not knowing what to do, I found myself hunched over in the corner alone. The hallway was silent with everyone else in class.  As I cried I also prayed that no one would walk down the hall to see this pathetic scene. My prayers weren’t answered. Several heavy foot steps echoed in the hall followed by three distinct male voices. I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to. Instead I turned my head farther down and sunk below my arms so far so that my chin was nearly touching my stomach. I wanted to sink within myself. As the voices got closer I continued to curl up hoping that by time they reached the corner I would have disappeared. It didn’t happen.

“Ew, whats that guys?” said one of the three boys who now stood in front of me. There was no hiding, no disappearing. I had to look up and so I did, but only a little bit so that only my eyes could be seen. The three most popular boys in school were starring down at me with extreme looks of disgust on their faces. One boy shook his head and said to the others, “Man would you ever date her? She’s so ugly.” The boy next to him jumped in surprise at the question, “No way!” The third boy squinted his eyes, “What would you call her anyway?” The first boy hummed in contemplation, “A thing. I’d never date this thing.” He gestured towards me with a strong look of finality in his eyes and said, “Gross.” Then they all walked away continuously mumbling about how gross I was. Their words had shook my little 4th grade heart to the core. Every insult was like an onslaught of burning arrows all directed at me. I had no defense, no shield, no ally, no rock or stone to hide behind. Essentially I was out in the middle of wide field with a bulls eyes painted on me.

Every insult I had taken to heart. They made me feel bad about myself, about my life, about everything. My self esteem was at sub zero at the age of ten. These type of people had power over me and I thought that they’d grow up (all the popular kids) to be rich and successful. You know what I mean. They’d be the next Brads and Angelina. The next Diddy or Dr. Dre. But actually most of them are more like a Bonny and Clyde except way less famous. These people that I once thought were so cool and strong have gone no where int heir lives. They didn’t go to college ( some of them didn’t even finish high school), still live at home with their parents, have no car, no job( not legal ones at least) and lots of kids. I on the other hand am the opposite. I’m in college, have a car (that I paid for myself), I have a job, live on my own and have no kids( not any time soon).  I don’t want to be blunt or harsh, but these people are doing nothing with their lives. They’re going down the same path many have gone down before them. It always leads to the same place, the same result.

In school, these kids were the ones everyone wanted to be. They always had the best clothes, the best shoes, the best hair. They knew everyone and got invited to all the parties. But now I look at these same kids and I think to myself, “These are the people I use to admire? These are the guys I wanted to date? The girls I wanted to be friends with? What was I thinking?” This just goes to show that sometimes the road less traveled does have the greatest reward.