Tag Archives: school

Five Days. Five Nights.

Noah J. was so kind to narrate this story. You can listen and read along:

This story was also translated to Polish.


The first four days Lachlan had been excited. The fifth day, that Friday that he came back from primary school with dirt on his knees, he was not excited. He was euphoric.

I was in my office, writing the final formulaic words of another research proposal.

“Daaad!”

“Hey!”

“Dad! Dad! Dad!”

“Oh wow, someone is happy. Enjoyed school?”

“School is awesome!”

“That’s great!”

“And I have loads of friends!”

“Of course you do.”

“Look!”

He stretched his small, dirty hand towards me.

“You cut yourself?”

“No.”

“That looks like a cut.”

“It’s a talesman.” Continue reading

The last one in the shower

Trigger warning: This short story contains episodes of graphic sexual violence.



Gray tiles, some already chipped, all with greenish stains. Large sinks, rarely cleaned. Showerheads, large and too high to be reached.

Push the button. Wait for the water to get warm. Jump inside and quickly wash. Make sure that no one else sees too much. At that age it’s scary to be seen. What if the others have more hair or bigger things down there? Just don’t be seen.

Scary age. You grow into it and you when you think back you can’t see when you got into it. Maybe it was that first PE lesson after the summer; the one with the new teacher that said that we are soon men and will start to smell and all have to shower.

I was always one of the first. We all rushed in there, quick in, quick out. Not be seen. Continue reading

Phone Call from a Forgotten Friend

I sat on the bus when my phone buzzed. Naomi. It took me nearly a minute to fit a face to the name. How long had it been? Ten years?

Hey. Long time no see! Remember how we used to do sleepovers? I’d love to meet up.

I sat and stared at the phone, thinking of the time in school. Trying desperately to remember whether we ever actually had a sleepover.

Half an hour later, just when I arrived home, her next text came.

Hey. I’m not sure if you still use this number. Could you reply? I’d really like to talk quickly.

Five minutes later Naomi called. I had the phone in my hand but let it ring another three times before I picked up.

“Hey,” she said. “How are you?”

“Good. How are you? What’s up?”

“Oh, I’m good too. Excellent. Everything is great. I just missed you.” Continue reading

The Knife is Still in My Lap

I sit here shivering with my back against the wall. The knife is still in my lap. I can’t even leave this room. I just don’t know what to do anymore.

It was all because I flunked school. Fuck school. Lock kids into a tiny and smelly room in the best time of their life. And then make sure every small mistake determines their future. A gray and brown building filled with incompetent teachers and kids so horribly raised that not just them but also their parents deserve a good spanking.

That’s why I flunked. I couldn’t go there. I couldn’t stand the incompetence and the boring, dull, dragging hours on broken chairs. I felt my heart clench whenever I just so much as looked at the front door. So I didn’t go. And look where that got me. Continue reading

My Big Brother

When the light disappeared from behind the curtains it didn’t matter whether our parents were next door or not, it was only Ranyo that made me feel safe. He hugged me goodnight and afterwards he lay on the top bunk with his head dangling down the side of the bed. Every night he watched over me until I fell asleep and only then my brother went to sleep himself.

I don’t have many memories from my early childhood – I mean the ages 3 to 6 – but most of them are memories of Ranyo. He showed me how to make paper airplanes, he taught me to count from one to ten, and he was the one that told me about the treasure chests filled with toys in our garage.

I could not have imagined a better brother than Ranyo. He shared everything with me, even the secrets that I was not supposed to know. Once he showed me how to open the gummi bear drawer and afterwards we sat on the top bunk and ate little cola bottles and sweet green and red cherries until I felt sick.

Ranyo went to a different school than I did. He had to leave earlier than me and so I rarely saw him in the morning. But in turn he also finished earlier and nearly every day he stood on our front porch when mom and I arrived home. Only when it rained he hid inside the house, usually on his bunk with a teddy bear or two in his arms. Continue reading

The Best Friend

Noah J. kindly narrated this story. Listen to the YouTube version, read on – or both!

 

We rang the doorbell and my mother answered.

“I brought a friend,” I said. “This is Dalton.”

“Oh,” my mother replied. “I thought that would happen someday.”

There was a crowd of kids at the back of the class laughing about something. One of the girls kept saying “Eww.” When I shoved my way through their ranks I found him in the middle. He sat on the floor and a squeaking mouse was wriggling in his hand. Just the tips of the mouse’s feet touched the floor and it desperately moved its legs to try and grab hold. Every so often its legs touched the blue plastic floor, but Dalton didn’t allow it to run away.

When I reached the front of the crowd Dalton looked up.

“You,” he said. “Hold her for me.” Continue reading