The Wounded Poet

Chapter 6: Bond

It was a terrifying day when I would depart from my parents temporarily. I had never heard of school before. I remember my mother telling me that I was becoming a big boy now, going off and becoming a smart young man.

I remember looking out the car window, seeing this structure in front of me, and staring into its comforting features. It seemed too comfortable. My heart was pounding inside my chest, louder than the car door slamming. My mother took my uneasy hand. My face was bright red, and tears were starting to form, but they hadn't yet made an appearance. The face of the building expanded over me, taking me into its shadow. The door was open, with a sign saying "first day" in paper letters of all different neon colors. I think I was imagining everything. It seemed empty to me, but there were children everywhere with parents also holding their hands.

When we walked into the school, a teacher or secretary greeted my mother and I. My mother asked for directions to my room. We continued to walk down the hallway. I noticed the white tile floor, with some blue lockers lining the halls. Then, a door stood at the end of one hallway. It was labeled "kindergarten." I walked into one of the doors in that hallway and inside were a bunch of kids.

Suddenly, eyes, eyes, and more eyes turned to me. I saw all the glares. So many different thoughts and emotions from each pair of eyes. I couldn't tell which were which. There were blue and brown and gray eyes all pointed at me. Each pair of eyes added an extra weight on me, and every second that passed compounded the weight. That's when I burst into tears.

"Peter," my mother said. "It's okay. These are good people. You're gonna make lots of friends!"

I didn't care about friends. I didn't care about the room, the kids, the parents, the teachers, anything. I wanted to go home pronto. I wanted to run out of the room, down the hills, and slam the door to my room. I wanted to hop in bed and just go back to the life I had. But that obviously wasn't an option.

"Hello there Peter!" my teacher, Mrs. Beyer said.

I continued to bawl.

"I know that school can be very scary at first, but you'll make tons of friends and have so much fun!" Mrs. Beyer exclaimed.

All of the students were in a circle. They continued to stare at me. I wanted to avert my eyes, but I couldn't. The only social interaction I had was with my parents, and even then, I barely talked. This was the equivalent of being thrown into the deep end. I was drowning. I couldn't breathe, and all my energy was being spent trying to get out, but I just froze. I couldn't move one inch. I was sitting in park, slamming on the gas pedal. Then, a little nudge put me back into reality.

"Peter," my mother said as she crouched down to level with me. "You're gonna do great. I know you are. You're so smart and so nice and you'll understand why this was a good thing."

I looked at her eyes; those brown eyes of remorse but reassurance at the same time. She was one of the two people that I've really known in my life so far, and she hadn't steered me wrong—drastically, anyway—so far. So we hugged each other.

"Have a great day!" my mother said as she planted a soft and tender kiss on my forehead.

She left and Mrs. Beyer directed me to the circle. As I walked past, I heard the door close. I turned around to see the last of my mother's figure in the door's window. She was gone and I was here, alone, with a tribe of stinging eyes pointing spears at me. All the chatter of the children clogged up my ears; the slam of the door still ringing in the vast emptiness of social acceptance in my head. I took each step with caution. I sat at the gap in the circle, next to this kid named Jacob Allen. He seemed okay. He too was staring me. He was an African-American boy that wore a t-shirt of Selena and some blue jeans. I was shivering both from the A/C and my paranoia-induced aggressiveness of the other students toward me. I sat down, "criss-cross applesauce," looking at the gap that I formed with my legs. The carpet was navy blue, with the letters of the alphabet, both lowercase and uppercase in golden yellow letters, on the border of the carpet. I already knew my ABCs, but there were little pictures of an easy-to-remember object or animal to accompany the letter, and I was trying to read as much as I could. Then, the door opened and I perked my head up. I couldn't believe what I saw.