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chewed down fingernails, and shoes were outdated,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