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Nothing Free
by
Suzanne Tyson
I hear her
calling me, but I’d rather stay in bed, so I cover
my head with my blanket. She calls me again, but I
ignore her.
She doesn’t understand what Monday morning means to
me.
I’d rather stay in bed with my dreams instead of
facing a waking nightmare.
Oh no, she’s coming up the stairs, feet pounding,
voice louder.
She’s angrier by the step. Out of bed and into the
bathroom,
quick, she’s coming. Yes, I’m almost ready, I call.
Down the hall
she goes, but she’ll be back if I don’t get
dressed. I wish I could tell her the rest.
Into my clothes, and brush my teeth. My stomach is
shaky, queasy and uneasy.
What excuse can I use? Think quick. There has to be
something new.
Oh, God, what can I do? I can’t go. I can’t stay.
Past excuses to review.
Every moment here is agony, when I have to go
there. It’s just not fair.
I stand at the top of the stairs, and I wonder what
they will do to me today.
I need an escape plan, before I go, just in case I
have to leave.
Visions of fists and elbows come vividly to my
mind, the times
I‘ve been pinned to the ground with people’s faces
all around.
She calls again. Here I go. Down the stairs slowly
and into the kitchen
to eat eggs and toast. I’ll have to make the most
of it.
Her face tells me not to ask. I’ve done it too many
times in the past,
and she’s tried, but they lied. What can she do?
She reminds me to take my money for lunch, and I
slip out the door.
My knees are shaking, my heart is in my throat.
What if today they hurt me
worse than yesterday and the day before? What if
there are three or four
instead of one or two? What will I do?
Oh, Lord, help me make it through the day, just one
more day.
Be with me as I go from room to room, down the
halls from nine to three,
where I’m not free to be myself, not free from
punches after lunches.
not free from bullies. No, there is nothing free in
school for me.
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