Front Line

Front Line - Chapter 5 - Year 3

Front Line

Chapter Five – Year 3

  It was time for a new chapter in my life, I would be moving around from the infant side of the school, for years 0-2, zero being reception, now in with years 3-6 known as the junior side. By this time my brother was in Year 1 of the same school, having come up into reception when I was in Year 2. I would from this day onwards, walk him into his side of the school and stay with him until the bell was rung and then I would move around to my side and line up.

  The same principal applied on this side of the school as it did on the other, you would line up in your assigned classes, the slips previously as every year before were given out in the summer so you knew who’d be in your class for that year. On the first day of that year, my mother of course had to have a picture of me on my first day, once that was over and I was inside the school, I met up with the few familiar faces that had stayed with me until now. I was still stuck with Kieran from my other two classes in my new one, the one I considered my best friend was still in another class. Our parents remained standing in the playground until each class had gone inside, the teacher we would be with for that year would stand on the white line at the edge of the playground, and we would line up in front of them one behind the other. I was always stuck at the front, I had no idea why since my last name was Monroe and not something like Adams.

  As in the two units that had been before it, this one followed being called the ‘blue unit’ where years 3 & 4 would congregate again with one main room and two side rooms separating the years. As the years were small, which reflected the rest of the years within the school as they too were also small, it wasn’t hard to separate two years within one unit. This being the other side of the key-shaped school, the set-up was totally different to anything we had seen before. In the area before entering blue unit, there was a tiny corridor with a blue door, sectioning us off from the main corridor linking all units together. Inside that small corridor was a water cooler, which we were only allowed to use with permission. Once inside the unit, the blue unit main room was huge and could accommodate us all easily, bags went at the back on the left and right as soon as you entered, and tables flowed down the room to the back, a blackboard on the right back of the room, before they were taken down later on when we had long left due to some deeming them to be ‘racist. That is another story.

  My teacher for this year was a rather rotund woman called Miss Brickwell. She despite her size was a very caring soul; she sometimes did things I thought were a bit strict for young kids, but it got the wayward ones back in line with the rest of us. At this time we were still being placed on tables, I felt sorry for whoever ended up with me as their expressions weren’t that of happiness or gratitude that they got a nicer person than some in our class. This was the year only I think that we had a few Year 4 kids mixed within our class, the reasoning to this I cannot remember. It was also the year where instead of being alphabetically listed in the register by last name, which was still the same fill-in pencil style, we were listed in order from first name.

  This year among the seven that I was there for, was the year I could remember most from. This year we were taught more academic stuff than how to make this or make that, our knowledge of spelling and math and such other things were set out in actual lessons rather than feeling like an hour of play. Once a week we would watch this show called ‘Through the Dragon’s Eye’, or at least I would. I was never allowed to go on a weekly swimming trip for the year I was in, so I spent my time that slot each week with the year above watching this programme. I loved it so much I begged my mother and father to get it on VHS, video tape before we had DVD’s, but it was impossible to get a hold of.  

  There was one thing more than anything else that stuck out the most for me that year, around Christmas time, this was the earliest I could remember a red plastic letter box in which we would post Christmas cards to each other, two people would sort out the letters each lunch and they would be distributed at another time. I enjoyed sending them to my friends, the few that I had. Getting very few if none in return didn’t bother me, I liked the feeling of organising cards and going down to the reception area to post them.

  I think this was the year that we were also introduced to this slot in school called ‘Golden Time’, where every Friday for the last hour of that day, we would spend the hour doing whatever task/event we signed our names on to do. The places were limited to a set amount of students per section, so I didn’t always get what I wanted to do. But none the less, I enjoyed whatever I was then placed into. What I chose that year escapes me but leading off from golden time was this points system the school had cleverly devised. Each of us would be placed in a metaphorical ‘house’ where like in the Harry Potter books, we would collect ‘marks’ instead of points, and the team with the most marks that week won something. Again what the winning houses’ prize was escapes my memory. I was in a house called ‘Godiva’, and I always was and we won quite a lot, thanks to some of us adding extra marks when we went to collect them.

  Despite all the amazing things that happened and came out from that year, the issues that had plagued me in the past still stuck to me like hot glue. The same girls who had bullied and picked on me in the past few years never tired of the same old insults, new ones again still came up but I think due to them being new, my mind blocked them out and kept the ones that had the most effect on my mood. Looking back on it now, it seemed a lot worse at the time as I couldn’t understand why it was me out of all the girls, but none the less I don’t think I should skip on even the smallest of bad times, as with life, nothing should be hidden in the dark, not even if a bad time to me feels bad as hell and nothing to someone who might read this, it is still my past.

  So that year soon came and went again, though whilst in that year it felt like it was taking forever, what with the yearly sports day which I hated to bits, I always got stuck with the headmaster in his team, he was a creeper. We always knew when the last day of term comes around, it was one of the few times we were allowed to wear our own clothes, something I both enjoyed and at the same time, didn’t.  Even before we broke up, we were already preparing for the year ahead, one year older but none the wiser.