The Desolate Child
By: Mikki • Essay • 626 Words • March 28, 2010 • 825 Views
The Desolate Child
The Desolate Child
As I watched the circus of children stampede throughout the courtyard, I noticed a certain cheery
disposition that most of the children took. Many
seemed very active, if they weren’t walking around and
talking with their different friends than they were
competing against each other in basketball,
tetherball, hopscotch and tag in the basketball court
centered in the middle of the playground. All the
children seemed playful, energetic and full of life.
All the children seemed this way but one. Desolate and
quiet, she sat alienated from the rest of her peers.
Although she was sitting attentively in the corner of
the playground, something just did not seem right.
Assuming a crouched posture, she buried her hands
within her crossed legs. I noticed her speaking to
herself, her lips moved ever so swiftly to the tune of
the wind as if she were whispering to the angels. She
seemed to fidget with her hands nervously like she was
playing an intense game of thumb war with herself. I
couldn’t not tell weather her fidgeting was a nervous
habit, or just something she did to pass her lonely
time away. When I think as to what would cause one to
speak to them alone in public and play finger games
with themselves, I could draw no conclusion other than
she seems lonely and desperate for the attention of
others.
She was a petit girl about the average size of the
younger kids that played obnoxiously around her. Her
skin was as white as a fresh piece of paper and glowed
fluorescently in the rays of the sun. Her hair was
brittle and uncombed but looked very rich in brown
like the crisp leaves of autumn trees. Her emerald
eyes stood out vibrantly beneath her thick black
glasses like dazzling jewels in a blackened cave, just
waiting to be discovered. Her uniform, wrinkly as the
bark of a tree, was covered in miscellaneous stains
covering her from head to toe. She wore her headband
loose so it was slowly making its way off the back of
her head. Her knee-high purple socks matched her
chewed down fingernails, and shoes were outdated,
dilapidated and had faded to a musky yellow.
Towards the end of recess I concentrated on the other
children for a few minuets as the little