A dozy
silence settles throughout the dark room, merely lit by the blank grey sky
outside. Desks are littered in edgings probably dating back decades and the gas
taps don’t work anymore. The radiators must not work either. My shirt clings to
my skin and my feet seep into my marshy socks.
The door
next to the whiteboard at the front of the class swings open. Mr Scrivens, the
maths teacher, waddles in. The strict one with the sleeping disorder who unlike
most teachers, dresses informally, wearing dirty looking t-shirts and loose
cargos. His saggy eyes ignore the class in front of him.
Everyone
around me is writing already. How did they come up with ideas so quickly? What
if I don’t write something good down? I don’t want to be the only one. Whirlpools
cascade around in my stomach and slam my lungs. I must write something down. I
don’t want to be the only one. I don’t want to get told off.
An
orange glow from behind the black trees across the playground strokes its way
it the room. It leaves a hazy warmth that starts to dry my uniform.
Gradually I think of something
to write about. After I have finished I read it through and am quite proud of
it.
Suddenly
the room darkens as the sky turns a darker grey and starts chucking rain down again.
The orange glow has disappeared.
‘Have
you finished then Carl?’
‘Yes.’ I
reply to his surprise, feeling my cheeks heating up.
He
marches towards me with an expression of suspicion and almost looks confident.
Confident that my work won’t be up to standard. But I’m rather confident I will
prove him wrong.
He picks
up my work and takes a moment to read it. I wait for his expression to change,
but it doesn’t. He shakes his head with disgust and walks back up to the front,
with my work in his hands.
The rain
outside seems to get heavier.
My
throat begins to tighten.
‘Right.’
He says addressing the whole class, ‘Listen to this example of – well I’ll let
you decide what it is.’
As he
begins my face really starts to heat up. He doesn’t like it. In fact, he’s
mocking it. I see people in front of me shaking their heads and can see one
girl withholding a laugh. Surely it can’t be that bad!
Once he
finishes reading it he asks the class for their opinion. No one responds at
first.
‘It
doesn’t really make sense!’ belts out from behind me, a female voice.
For a
few seconds, there is complete silence. Suddenly the whole room starts bursting
out laughing. My eyes work hard to stop tears from cascading out. I can’t let
anyone see me cry. That would be the end of me.
‘How was
your first day back?’
I sort
of shake my head, not knowing exactly how to answer.
Soon the
dull grey will fade, leaving a black nothingness in the sky. Everything ahead
of me looks grey; the concrete, the leafless trees, the houses. The only thing
that ever seems to have any colour is her. Golden smooth hair. Blue eyes the
colour of ice.
‘What
happened?’ Although she has a genuine look of concern, she almost doesn’t seem
surprised.
‘Mr
Scrivens read my work out to the class.’
She
looks at me more scrupulously to better gauge how I’m feeling, pushing her
bottom lip out to show pity in an obvious way. She says nothing.
‘He was
taking the piss out of it. - Then he asked what the class thought - fucking
Katie Molloy belted out “It doesn’t make any sense!” - the whole class just laughed.’
‘What a
dickhead!’ she said perking up angrily.
She
paused for a minute, looking down the road ahead.
‘I’m
sorry Conor.’
She
rests her head on my shoulder whilst we walk on home. A little warmth enters my
chest and recent memories start to dissolve. I don’t feel quite so frail.
I hold my
ticket up to the screen.
‘Welcome
aboard the Green Air Airship C350 - Conor. Please make your way down the plane to
your seat - WING 2 – Row 3 – seat F.’
Becca
looks back at me from down the aisle as a sort of signal for me to catch up
with her. This feeling of excitement comes over me. A shockwave of newly found
energy rushes throughout my limbs.
‘I’ve
never had wing seats before.’
We step
into the wing and find that Dad and Donal have already found their seats. The
seating layout is the same as the main part of the plane, in that they are
forward facing and in rows. The only difference is that there are only five rows
and they are twice as long. Collectively the seats form a triangle, fitting the
shape of the wing. There are two isles splitting the seats into three sections
with windows at the front and the back of the wing.
We make our way over to our
seats that are in the third row from the back.
‘Alright?’
‘Yep.’ Says my dad.
I stow
mine and Becca’s bag in the overhead storage above.
‘This is
weird.’
‘You can
already feel the heat.’
‘I
know.’
Me and
Becca stand waiting for Dad and Donal to get through security. The eye and
fingerprint scanners don’t seem to be working for them.
‘Finally!’
I say to my dad as he walks over with Donal behind him.
‘Those bloody scanners never
work for me.’ Says my dad as we begin to make our way over to the exit to go
outside.
It smells different here. I
can’t put my finger on what the exact smell is but it just smells – fresh. A
distinctly different smell to the air back home in London. All the people
around me look Italian. Men with dark
hair and olive skin, dressed just as well as the women. I can’t spot one person
around me that isn’t good looking.
‘This is quite a small airport
isn’t it.’ I say addressing everyone.
I conclude to myself that it’s a
lot smaller than the one last year.
I cross the pebble stone road by
myself to take a further look at the view. A lustrous blue gloriously graces
the huge expanse of sky above and below me, so bright and incandescent that
everything below it beams its most vivid colours. Below me and in the distance
the earth rises and falls where it pleases, leaving little to big hills and
immense mountains. Every shade of green I can possibly imagine sits in front of
my feeble eyes. Looking down at the steep descent below me, I see blooming
trees overlapping each other and little houses appearing in the breaks of them.
Then at the bottom of the hill which looks like well over 100 metres down, the
landscape slowly ascends back upwards and outwards leaving a huge expanse of
hilly but open land below my level which only ends when it meets a group of
mountains far away in the distance. Whilst looking at this land with awe, I
notice that every field looks slightly different to the next. I spot some with
cows in, some empty and some containing vast vineyards. A beautifully ancient
looking town sits on a hill with stone houses sitting at slightly different
heights. Bell towers belonging to stunning and impressive churches, stand tall
peering over the buildings next to them. Past this town and fields that I can
make out, the green blanket of earth greets imposing mountains, monstrous in
size, wearing an array of rock forms. Nature just sits there boasting its
immaculate features.
It’s like trickery, like someone
has just placed a hugely detailed painting in front of me. Part of me wants to
cry and part of me wants to laugh. I am entranced, enchanted by the sheer sight
of this view. Everything seems so simple right now. Right now, in this moment. A
moment of pure silence. Just me, on the edge of a cliff, looking out at world I
have never known and never want to leave.
‘Conor!’ Becca shouts at me from
behind.
I take a deep breath, look at
the view again and then turn away. Becca and Donal are sitting on a bench just
left of the airport doors. They are both looking at the view as well.
‘It’s beautiful ain’t it.’ I say
to them with which I get a silent reply of agreement.
‘Where’s dad?’
‘I don’t know.’
Stella appears from underneath
the bench we are sitting on, stiffing the ground freely. A Border Collie walks
over to greet Stella. They exchange a few sniffs and circle each other and
start playing, chasing each other. Stella’s mouth opens and she displays her
tongue, almost like she’s smiling.
After the Collie leaves to catch
up with its owner, we continue to gaze at the view.
‘Mmmmm … mmmmm … mmmmm … mmm-‘
My eyes open and my body and
mind hesitates to comprehend my reality. The sound slaps me in the face and my
hand instinctively reaches out for my phone. I sit up and open my blinds to see
a grey sky.
