Saturday, May 20, 2006

The Middle Class Child - 8.10.12

charlottes web

Esmé is frightened. In fact, in all her 8 years 10 months and 12 days she has never felt so afraid.

It all started out as such a typical day at school. Just like any other day, she had been driven to the gates of her local Parish primary school by her Mummy in their shiny silver people carrier (the one with highest safety rating – of course).

The morning lessons had flown by, being as they were by far Esmé’s favourites; Music and Art. Her lunch had been splendid, and she was delighted when she found that her Mummy had packed a little note saying how special Esmé was and how much her Mummy and Daddy loved her.

The first afternoon lesson was a little less fun than the morning, with what felt like a hundred years talking about the book, Charlotte’s Web. Esmé felt that she should really love the novel about the friendly matriarchical spider on a farm, but despite trying very hard, she simply could not help but feel a little disinterested by it.

Then it happened. She stood with a group of her closest friends during the final break of the day talking about all the things little girls talk about, when one of the older boys came up to her; his name was Glenn Wright, a rather scruffy looking boy with wild blonde hair and small grey eyes. A boy Esmé had previously paid little or no attention to.

He stood directly in front of her and before she could ask what it was he wanted, he had taken hold of one of her bunches and pulled very hard, which hurt very much.

Esmé instinctively screamed and begged Glenn to stop. Her friends tried to pull Glenn away but as they did, he simply pulled harder on her hair.

With one final tug he let go of her hair. Esmé, crying bitterly, crumpled to the ground. With her hands covering a tear soaked face she heard her friend Heather demand to know why he had just done what he had done.

Glenn scoffed and said with a cold detachment, “’Cause you’re all a bunch of stuck-up little bitches and everyone hates you, especially that one”. Although Esmé could not see him, she knew he was point directly at her.

Esmé was quiet all evening. Her Mother, Lizzie, asked her several times what the matter was but Esmé did not want to say, feeling both confused and ashamed of what had happened.

It was clear Glenn hated her, and if he hated her then there was a strong possibility he was not alone and that everyone hated her, even the ones that pretended to be her friend. Esmé could not understand what he had meant by ‘stuck-up’ or indeed, what she had done to incur such wrath. She was now terrified of what the consequences of today’s incident would be, and if indeed, she would face the same abuse tomorrow.


Sniffy said...

YAY! But awwwwwwwww, too. Poor little esme is only who she is because of her stuck up parents.

All parents should be shot and their children brought up in communes that instill equity and fairness.

And then they should be shot.

Herge Smith said...

Tina, feeling a bit of sympathy for Esme?

She may not need to be shot....

Rowan said...

Sounds like you took a page out of my childhood....I grew up nearby a housing development, so at least 50% of my school mates were dirt poor. As a result, they hated my sister and I for what seems like my parent's sucess and our prettiness (we were fair with blond hair and blue eyes)