Breaking Enigma || The Imitation Game

◈ EIGHT- Carrots, Peas and Floorboards ◈

I never did like school lunchtimes. In fact, I absolutely despised them; especially on a Friday. Every Friday we would be served a roast dinner of sorts and that meant carrots and peas. I was picked on by the other girls because of a habit I have concerning those carrots and peas. You see, carrots are orange and they cannot touch the peas since those are green. Just because my brain works differently to others, doesn't give permission to make fun of me. That's what I think anyway, but evidently the girls at Sherborne school don't seem to care. They're oblivious to other people's feelings and requirements.

It was on one particular Friday that matters went too far regarding the two types of vegetables. I was sat at the dinner table with some girls who were in my mathematics class. If I had a choice, I'd sit alone. But it's only because I'm able to help them with class and homework does it mean that I can sit with them. They seem to be grateful for that and don't seem to mind my presence and neither do I mind theirs.

Although, this particular Friday brought me embarrassment. Some popular girl, by the name of Elizabeth Francis, thought it would be funny to tip a plate stacked with peas and carrots over my head. And that's exactly what she did. The entire hall watched, laughed and jeered as I rapidly stood up, brushing the vegetables out of my hair and off my clothes. It was the sheer noise of laughter that I hated the most; I just wanted it to cease.

"What a freak!" One girl shouted with hatred.

"Come on, Turing. It's only a joke!" Said another.

If it was a joke, then it certainly wasn't funny in any way. I decided, with burning anger and tearful eyes, that being alone was the best thing at this moment in time.

Taking my satchel from under the table, I quickly left the dining hall and made my way down the cold stone corridors. The echoes of the nasty comments, sneering faces and sniggering filled my head as stepped onto the short emerald-green grass of the courtyard. It was a cloudy day and the wind blew the trees, making them rustle and shake. I sat under one of them, gazing in the near distance where a group of older girls were playing lacrosse.

I got out a notebook and pencil from my bag and then sat the leather satchel by my side. I made the decision that solving challenging mathematical equations that Miss Kirkham (my mathematics teacher) had given me would be the best way to pass the time. I managed to solve nine of the fifteen questions before the end of lunch, which I saw as an accomplishment.

At one o'clock, I made my way to History class. I was quite looking forward to it as I found History rather interesting due to the intriguing secrets of the past. I always worked my hardest in this class and it did pay off, eventually. Mrs Ashurst said I was amongst the top students in the class. Me being me, I felt proud of this compliment, but still overall preferred maths and science. A few of the other students were still discussing the dramatic events that occurred during lunch and I did my best to block it out. Mother said I shouldn't let anyone take me for granted or take advantage of me. She's right, but all I have to do is put that into reality.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next week brought even more trauma. It was a Tuesday, and again, people thought it would be hilarious to bully me. This time, I was trapped helplessly under the floorboards in our Latin classroom. Elizabeth Francis and her two minions, Charlotte Whitworth and Mary Fothergill, just don't know when to stop. I was sure they conducted acts such as this because they were jealous. Father said the same.

To be honest, I'm not quite how they managed to grab hold of me and then treat me like a pest of an insect that keeps buzzing or flying around, so as a result, makes you irritated. Maybe that's what I am to everybody- a weak, powerless bug. A target, perhaps? Most likely, yes.

The old wooden floorboards in the Latin classroom were easy to pull up, if one were to tug on the nails that held them down with a hammer or a similar tool. I squirmed in the tight and painful grasp of Elizabeth, while watching the other two girls dig my temporary grave.

"I- I don't understand," I say with a shaky voice. "Why do you have to pick on me? What have I ever done to deserve your hatred?" I was trying my best to defend myself, but I knew that my efforts would be worthless.

"You're a freak," Elizabeth replied indifferently. "You think you are more intelligent than the rest of us; a show-off. But you're not."

"Well, to be honest, I am smarter than you are. I'm smarter than the three of you combined. Y- You're just jealous."

They laughed simultaneously. "Jealous? Of you? I don't think so," Charlotte spoke with a dark tone, but with Elizabeth's next words I knew what was coming-

"Also, how dare you insult us. You have no right to do that."

"You insult me, so why shouldn't I do it to-" I was cut short of my sentence and then forced to lie down it the gap between the ground and the place where the floorboard would be going. The tight space was very confining and my rage began to grow as the wooden board was once again nailed down above me. I felt trapped, like being buried alive and had the thought of not being able to get out filling my head.

It was like being awake inside a coffin, six feet underground. Very unpleasant, indeed. The only light shone through the cracks in the floorboards and I saw the shadows of the three girls as they moved swiftly, kicking the board down as I hit it with all my strength to get out; demanding to be released. While doing so, I listened to the familiar laughter that had taunted me since Friday.

Humans find violence deeply satisfying, but remove the satisfaction and the act becomes hollow. Why do people commit to violence? Well, it makes them feel dominant like they are invincible and not to be messed with. Me, on the other hand, dislike that sort of stuff. I loathe the existence of those who think violence is pleasurable. But I, in particular, am a burden to the school society in which I live. So, I deserve to be beaten and punished for my individuality.

The same repetition of hard stamps on the wooden floor went on for a good while- fifteen minutes, at least. By then, I no longer felt any power left in my arms and my whimpers of anger were silenced. The girls had stopped kicking and were listening for any form of movement.

"Turing?" Elizabeth called, curiously. "Turing, don't be such a whimp."

I shook my head with the frustration that still remained, but said or did nothing. I noticed that there was dust covering my blazer, shirt and even bits of my face. I hated the feeling, but if had to grin and bear it until I got out from under the floor, then it didn't matter. Or, if I got out.

Breathing heavily, I swallowed and waited in anticipation for the next move of torture. They didn't continue, but instead, left and leaving me to collect the dust and miniature stones over my clothing.

Despite the insults, bullying and mild forms of torture, I had one friend; just the one. Christianna Morcom- she helped me. Christianna was a kind girl from my mathematics class. I had never truly noticed because she was so quiet and for the fact that I was usually in my own world. She was also intelligent (one of the top students in mathematics and science) and was popular amongst most others; she was almost never alone.

I felt relief wash over me when the floorboards were lifted, light came flooding back and Christianna's face showed expressions of concern and inquisitiveness. "Allany, are you alright?" She asked. I sent her back a blank, yet tearful gaze. She helped me out and then put the floorboard back in its place with a snap- evidence to say that this eventful morning had never happened. Which I wish it hadn't.

I was about to thank Christianna for her goodwill, but she again asked- "Are you alright?"

And I simply nodded...