It was Saturday and all my friends were playing chase in the neighbouring pastures with some other younger kids. As usual, I was stuck in my sizzling bedroom working on my random body part project. I longed to play with my friends in the windy park brimmed with beautiful leaves with shades of yellow, orange and red. I thought about informing my mum to let me have this day off, but I knew mum wouldn’t approve. I sighed at the thought.
I took one last peep at the smiling and giggling friends before spinning around to complete my task. It was time for brunch, were I get to rest at last. My hands were red from all the writing and my nose was blocked. I might be coming down with a cold. I jiggled myself awake before slumping downstairs to the kitchen. It wasn’t a surprise when I saw my best friends and the pesky younger children sitting mutely at the dining table.
I threw myself onto a couch bed and made myself comfortable.
My mum fetched a jug of orange juice, a few cups and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I gripped one of the filled glasses and two cookies. I settled down for afternoon television, but something was different. Nobody was talking, they were whispering about something. I desperately wanted to hear about the subject, but I didn’t want to be rude, so I turned back to the television show. Something bugged me inside my brain.
What are they talking about? Is it about me? I shivered at the rhetorical questions. Now there was a buzzing noise of what I think is girly gossip. I edged closer towards the crowd of girls. I caught a few conversations: “Didn’t you hear? Thomas has a crush on Sohnjah!”
“Don’t be ridiculous! He would never have such a crush on the watching TV girl there!” Both of them giggled. “I bet Sohnjah is gonna be embarrassed! She looks real easy to blush!” “Hate to admit it, but I think she likes him too! What a great couple the make!” “It will be a great wedding, for the two of them!”
I gritted my teeth as they all buzzed on. Even my best friends, Mihindie and Nicky, were in this. So you were the people who spread that secret and you didn’t even tell me! Not going to tell me anything, are you? I flustered while stomping upstairs and into my mum’s room to sob. Dad came up next to me and patted me gently on the back. I cried silently, not letting any of my sniffles or tears come out. I grabbed my frustrated head and tried to calm down. It was difficult, since I never knew what the secret was about, nor when it started.
All that time, when I was at band, Nicky and Mihindie were sharing this pathetic secret? I trotted over into my room and walked to the bedside table. I lifted the photo of me and my best friends at the zoo. I spat at the two heads of my friends with a disgusted look on my face. I fussed about them for an hour with my mum and dad until my mind reminded me of the time when they told me how fussy I am sometimes. I had to admit that they were right. I am fussy and uncontrollable. If they were here, they would never ever play with me. I had to promise never to lose my temper ever again.
My Secret Hideaway
I have been driven up the wall many times in school and at home; I sometimes feel that I am surrounded by horrible human beings. At times like this, I thank God I had discovered my secret hideaway.
My secret hideaway is actually an abandoned hut about 3km in the jungle behind my home. Whenever I have the urge to go on my therapeutic trip, I usually leave in the morning. After packing my haversack with bottles of water, some food, books and other essential items such as a machete and torchlight, I set off with a spring in my steps. I like the early morning walk through the jungle; the air is crisp and invigorating. The gloom provided by the jungle canopy is punctuated by beams of sunlight. I have often stopped and stared at the magical vision that has never felt to me in awe.
By the time I reach my exalted hut, I am pumped with energy. The hut is partially covered by wild creepers that if one were easily spooked gives it eerie, haunted look. As I open the door to let the air and the sun rush in, I am careful to see what rushes out, squirrel has scampered, snake has slithered and some birds have flapped out. My heart is relatively easy. There is a mat, an old cupboard and some cooking utensils left behind the former lodger. I have kept the place clean, spartan though it may be. I spend a lot of my time outside the hut. Many a time, I have screamed like a screamed like a banshee and howled like a demented werewolf.
Every time I feel a need to release my tension and every pent-up anger then I have foolishly retained the whole week. Not too far away from the hut, it’s a stream that has always seemed inviting on hot days. As the sun rises in the sky and the humidity of the jungle gets to me, I discard my clothes and take a cold dip. Algebra and History seem like million miles away. I clamber up a rock under a shady tree and let the drowsiness suck me away into oblivion. I have always regarded the hut and the immediate vicinity around the hut as my own inviolable sanctuary.
Once, when I heard muffled voices approaching my hut, I felt a surge of fury because I believed my private place was out of bounds to any intruders. I actually armed myself with a stick to ward off the unwelcomed destroyers of my peace. Luckily, the voices faded away. I was still King of my Realm. By evening, the lengthening shadows are not the only cues for me to bid farewell to my hideaway; birds calling home to roost also provide a filling finale. Before darkness descends, I bid adieu to my beloved hideaway. By now, my tension has dissipated, I am fully de-stressed and I am suffused with tranquility. I am ready to face the world.
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