Recess 1
Recess 1
Third grade
Ms. Greene
Handed me tightly wrapped Chinese candy
And Starburst occasionally
A little girl
Fresh out of Haiti
Bullied
Teased, punched and kicked
Scared and scarred
Yet well mannered
Blue she wore “going on a date?
Ms. Greene giggles and smiled
In my mind I wasn’t pretty
Still,
To her , I was her sweet, quiet, little lady
In Ms. Greene’s class
I kneaded and molded Playdough in between my hands
And was pleasantly amused
Just as in the second grade
Charles ,said
“Yo momma so fat
When she sit on the rainbow
She popped Skittles”
I laughed so loud
I got in trouble
He was sitting behind me
At the back of the class
Boys and girls in our class
All got their hits in
Charles didn’t
They dared me to stand up for myself
But I couldn’t fight back for nothing
That pain was mine to bear
But shared by people across the world
I hid it well
As it didn’t smell
Or reflect on the surface
Seasoned was I at nine
In second grade
Things appeared good and well
But she wanted to
Hide from the little monsters
That gave her hell
Many a school day
I was their punching bag
Deflated
And reduced to a ball
Tossed, kicked, hit
I can’t feel it now
No traces remain
Just in my mind
They were young and still innocent
Their hands and feet were their only weapon
Monica, my Spanish friend, Karina’s cousin ,
Likened me to a boy
Inches away outside at recess one day
As if she were an angel delivering a message
On a trip to the circus
Karina , who sat next to me
On the cheese bus
Gave me a dollar
In exchange for my fifty cent blue juice
That I’d already sipped from
I had chocolate cupcakes with white filling
I was becoming a little woman upstairs
My sweater buttoned up to my face
Aren’t you hot? Asked Delphine ,
A snobby Haitian girl , hair done, new clothes worn
Dayvonique , a pretty little black girl
Who had everything said “Pay them no mine”
Our supermarket trip granted us lemonade
Boiled down cafeteria apples made into a sauce
My teacher, Ms.Goodwin
stirred the pot
And sweetened our Macintosh
I would watch her step out of the class
To converse with a male janitor
All giggles and smiles
Always made up
Pretty
Dressed nice
But she never saw me
And all the kids
Who wanted me to disappear
Marckincia Jean
Narrative
08/15/19
Copyright © Marckincia Jean | Year Posted 2019
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