Childhood Memory pt. 1

Writing

My childhood is composed evanescent memories and endless photographs. I’ve obtained the photo of me at birth, hand-written measurements and times written by my father. There aren’t many memories of me being a child. I remember the moment in elementary school where this boy was nodding his body as if the air within the music room had been drugged with sleeping gas. He began to close his eyes, I watched him edge closer and close to the earth. He twitched and his mouth widened and he began to have a seemingly eternal seizure. The musical teacher turned towards the class as the air is filled with a mocking uproar of laughter as if his agony. They laughed, I did as well but soon enough I stopped and the laughter began to flee away from my eardrums. We all sat there chairs in a circle, the same dark blue steel legged chairs with white scratches and marks from being roughed around. We sat upon them with matching uniforms but different colored sweaters. They still laughed and pointed at him as if he were the main attraction at a carnival. I stopped and looked upon his face and saw that he was unconscious yet foam spilt from his lips as if he were a tall glass of freshly tapped beer. My face turned to stone, my stomach to ten-thousand foot drop. My eyes widened as I saw him stop shaking, his neck slumped over as if it were a tree that held on by a few strands of tender wood. The laughter came to a dramatic pause and an inhale large enough to suck the classroom’s dust that lay upon its windows and walls started to climax. All of our young faces frozen within in the ten second moment frame, we all sat there wide-eyed and traumatized as if we had experienced our first tango with death. All of them never experienced it. I knew the pain well enough to know that you couldn’t let them see you cry. If you did there would be books upon books of laughter and torment within your mental library. Never enough, there is never enough people to check out these books that pained your library shelves. I felt the chills fill the air as if all of sudden we all cared. What did we know? We were just laughing at what we didn’t understand. Isn’t that what children do?

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