Echo #2 / 2008
“YES!” I exclaimed; arms sprang upwards in victory.
My hand instinctively reached for the mouse and swiftly clicked on the print button. Excitement coursed through my entire body, making me giddy with anticipation.
After entering the page numbers, I clicked on the print button and retrieved my backpack. Extracting a light blue folder from it, I left my seat in front of the computer and walked to the school tables positioned in the centre of the vacant room. Meanwhile, the printer whirred behind me as I pulled out the stack of papers from the folder.
Gazing my fingertips over the top page’s printed words, I felt a prideful grin grow on my face.
Running my fingertips over the printed words on the top page, I felt a proud grin spread across my face.
However, familiar laughter cracked through, and I looked up towards the windows. I saw the well-known outside pathways of the school, and with the café/lunch room just to the side. Several students were milling about, walking, and chatting. The familiar laughter rang out again, and that’s when I spotted my friends… Is that what they still are? I wasn’t entirely sure about the status of most of my friendships, but I had once been close to those who were now walking past the windows, laughing.
I let out a heavy sigh, my eyes wandering back over to the printer.
“You alright there?”
I almost jumped out of my skin at the new voice and turned to see Mrs. Connors, one of the heads of the Learning Disability centre at the school. I was currently in one of the two classrooms during break time, my lunch long forgotten as I was too focused on the task at hand.
“Sorry,” Mrs. Connors smiled brightly, hands held up in peace. “I just heard a shout followed by the heaviest sigh. My curiosity got the better of me.”
I smiled back, feeling relaxed again. “Yeah I’m good, just…” I gestured to the windows where the people I knew were long gone. “Just saw people I knew.”
Mrs. Connors smile faltered slightly, grasping her hands in front of her body. “Why don’t you go out? Talk with them? You might be able to have some fun?”
Anxiety bubbled through me instantly. “I-I…” I shook my head, moving my eyes back outside the windows. “I don’t really want to. It gets too much sometimes. It’s hard to keep up. And I always get something wrong.”
“I doubt that’s true.” Mrs. Connors reassured, stepping into the room more. “I think you’re just too hard on yourself. Plus, you’re only thirteen, you’re meant to get things wrong from time to time.” She then nodded to the kids that were in eyeshot outside, “I bet all of them have gotten something wrong today – whether in class or in friendships.”
I looked at Mrs. Connors, the tension in my heart lessening slightly, until I shook my head. “No. I mean, yes, you’re right but… I’m spoilt, selfish, ungrateful, ageist… I’m not really a good friend to have.”
“Ageist?” Mrs. Connors eyebrows drew together, eyes zoning in on me. “Where on Earth did you hear that?”
The printer beeped, signalling the end of its printing. I lit up, darting towards the printer to retrieve the freshly printed papers.
“It’s done!” I piped, spinning back to Mrs. Connors with a wide smirk.
A bemused smile lifted the corners of Mrs. Connors lips. “Another chapter?”
“No! Well, yes, but it’s done!” I approached the tables again to slide the fresh prints underneath the pile of other papers. “I finished the story!”
Mrs. Connor’s smile now matched my own. “Yeah? That’s amazing! What’s the word count?”
I frowned, “I-I don’t know…”
“Do you want me to show you where you can locate it on the computer?”
Slowly I nodded, and once I had gotten the document back up, Mrs. Connors pointed to where the word count was allocated.
“Rose you’ve written nearly twenty thousand words.” Mrs. Connors congratulated; her voice filled with a type of pride I couldn’t help but blush under. “Do you know how impressive that is?”
Unsure of what to do, I shrugged. “Well, a lot of those words are ‘and’, ‘the’ and the main character’s name. Plus…” Once saving the document and closing it down, I signed out of the computer. “There’s probably a lot of misspellings in there. Some say dyslexia is a curse.”
“And you?” Mrs. Connors titled her head, “would you say the same?”
I sighed, feeling the familiarity of this conversation weigh on me momentarily. “Sometimes but…” Running my fingertips on the top page once more, a little smile returned. “But I’m starting to see the advantages of having a uniquely wired brain.” Then nerves wrecked me as I looked up to Mrs. Connors. “W-would you be able to…”
Despite how I trailed off, Mrs. Connors knew me well enough to know what I was asking. “I would be honoured to be the first reader.”
I grinned and carefully slid all the pages back into the light blue folder before handing it over to her.
“What’s it about?” Mrs. Connors, flicking open the folder briefly to look at the amounts of writing inside.
I struggled for a moment. “Uhm… about a teenage girl who… runs away from home.”
Mrs. Connors eyes flickered back to me, a well-known look of concern crossing her features, but she quickly tempered it down. “What’s it called?”
“Alex Jones.” I stated, “it’s the main character’s name. I thought… since it’s about her story, it should be named after her.”
Mrs. Connors, “that’s a very insightful way to look at it.”
I grinned. “And I had another idea – for the next story. It follows a girl named Paris Adams, so the story is named after her, and it’s about bullying.”
“I’m guessing she’s going to be the bullied victim?”
To Mrs. Connors surprise, I shook my head. “No. To begin with she will be one of the bullies. But she slowly builds a friendship with the victim and will eventually stand up to her friends.”
Mrs. Connors was silent for a moment, clearly pondering the story I had proposed. “That’s very… interesting, Rose. Definitely a new way to look and write a story about bullying.” She then nodded outside. “But maybe, before the dive into the next best seller, you should go out and celebrate the current one?”
I pushed my lips together, anxiety bubbling at the surface. “I don’t…” Struggling to find the right words, I gave myself a minute. “What if I don’t really like it?”
“What? Friends?”
I shook my head. “No, I like friends. I’d like to have friends. But… I don’t know, just standing around and talking, or walking about… it kind of gets boring after a while. As well as keeping up with all the social stuff, the boring-ness of it all just gets to me. And writing Alex Jones… I felt excited. Happy. Like I was finally in my element.” I then looked up to meet Mrs. Connors eyes. “Is that a bad thing?”
Mrs. Connors gave a comforting smile. “No, of course not Rose. If you want to stay here and write, you are more than allowed to do that if that what makes you happy. I’m just concerned because… well, you’re young and I don’t want you to regret anything. I don’t want you to miss out on anything.”
It wasn’t the first time I heard this. However, this time, it was filled with fewer curse words, horrible names, and accusations. This version was much softer and kinder, something that kinda freaked me out.
Mrs. Connors grasped my shoulder momentarily. “Just give it a think.” When I nodded in response, she made her way out of the room, with the light blue folder in her hand.
Am I missing out? I sat at the centre of the tables; my mind filled with my own confusion. Laughter drifted in from outside, drawing my gaze back to the windows. It was still a group of random kids out there, no one I personally knew. But they seemed to be having a great time chatting… About whatever they were chatting about.
I pursed my lips, suddenly feeling much smaller than I had just minutes before.