Kylie couldn’t breathe. The air crowded her lungs and her body clenched inside of her. The shouting of the people around her shook her nerves and she trembled, her body craving to collapse inwards into a ball.
Was this really happening? Was she really on stage right now with the parents staring up at her. Her parents were staring up at her, light in their eyes as they waited for their fifth grade daughter to say the words she had been practicing for so long. She couldn’t see them. She couldn’t see anybody. Tears flickered in her eyes, making everything around her appear blurry. A drum seemed to pound in her ears and she couldn’t hear anything except her own breath. Her breath. She was breathing. Kylie was breathing, but words could not come out. They settled inside of her stomach and rolled under her tongue. Her mouth felt sticky and the stickiness clamped it shut. Her legs vibrated and her hands grasped onto the fabric of her blue dress. What had her poem been about again? “Kylie,” a voice breathed into her ear. She shuddered. Who was this person? Why was she standing beside her? Kylie’s head tilted to the left, toward the voice. It sounded so gentle, so warm. Maybe it could take her away from this horrible place where she stood, but no words came out. “Kylie, it’s Mrs. Richardson,” the voice fluttered into her ears, breaking through the pounding of the drums. “The first word of your poem is ‘imagine.’” Right. Imagine. But Kylie couldn’t imagine. She couldn't imagine herself out of this auditorium, out of this school, out of this world. Her mind stayed planted in this moment with all the stares, the parents, the trembling. What had she wanted to imagine earlier when she wrote that poem? She could faintly remember writing down those words onto fresh lined paper, her eyes bright with excitement and her heart thrumming with words, with hope. Hope. Maybe that was what she had been writing about. But what was there to be hopeful about? She blinked and her tears cleared up just for a moment so she could see...her mother. Her mother sat in the second row, her light brown face brimming with hope. Hope for Kylie to start, to speak. But then that image was gone and the tears had fallen into view again. Her mother believed in her, but why did she? Kylie always felt she disappointed her mother. She could never remember to take out the trash and sometimes she complained when they went to visit her mother’s family who were Mashpee Wampanoag instead of staying at home and watching Kylie’s favorite TV shows. Why was Kylie so selfish? Didn’t she value her family? They cared about her and gave so much to her every time they saw her. Kylie blinked again and this time her eyes landed on her father. He sat on her mother’s left and his dark brown eyes seemed to bore into her, begging her to share her words, her strength. Right. He had taught her so much. She remembered all the moments of them sitting side-by-side on the front steps. Him speaking Shanghainese so softly, Kylie wondered if he was embarrassed by the fact he spoke a language other than English. But why? Why would he be ashamed? Kylie would reply to him in his mother tongue and he would smile, but look sad as well. Kylie turned toward Mrs. Richardson now. The woman’s dark brown face peered down at Kylie with encouragement. She beamed and brushed back a strand of her gray hair. There was no anger in her gaze at Kylie for taking so long to remember the right words. She believed in Kylie. She had been in this moment so many times before with so many other students and had supported them through it. Kylie let out a breath. She would begin. She would say her poem. The words were beginning to flow into her mind now, like trickling water from a hose that only grew as the knob turned. Kylie spoke, “Imagine…”
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AuthorI'm Darcy Ridge, creating stories that all revolve around family and identity in a myriad of ways. In the past, I have shared multiple stories and published a novella online. You can find me on Wattpad and many other social media websites. They/them [Image Description: black background with the words "Social Justice and Mental Health Resources" in white in the center /end ID]
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