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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: Aging / Maturity
- Published: 07/26/2020
Blue
Born 1948, F, from Epping. Essex, United Kingdom.jpeg)
Blue
By Kristin Dockar
I left school today.
We had the end of term assembly and I sat there quietly as Mr Ederidge, our head teacher for the last five years, told us about the journey we were about to embark upon. He said all those old things like ‘one door’s closing but another is opening’ and I wondered if he ever got bored saying the same old things over and over as each lot of Year 11 students got to the finishing post. I use that term ‘finishing post’ because that is what school has been for me. A long hard race to the finishing post. I’m severely Dyslexic so anything to do with reading and writing has been hard. But they have helped me. I can use a laptop for a lot of the work but it’s still so frustrating. Before they realised that I had difficulties with literacy, I was always in the bottom sets, but I knew I was bright enough. Very annoying.
When Sir finished speaking, everybody hugged, and some of the kids were crying. Loads of people signed my school shirt. Mr Davies, my maths teacher for the last three years, said he’d miss me and we both knew he was lying.
Then the bell rang for the very last time and I walked home with Dom and Lacey. We were all a bit quiet and I knew they were feeling wobbly.
We realised it was big grown up stuff, leaving school.
‘See you later’ I said and walked up my road. I had so much stuff to bring home. There was my huge back-pack full of my books, PE kit, and my handbag. For some reason, it had become ‘cool’ to take a handbag to school, as if we didn’t have enough to hump about!
Emptying my locker had been shocking. I had used it as a dumping ground for the last five years.
Once I got home, I rushed up to my room and off came the dark blue blazer which had imprisoned me for years. From the misshapen pockets I extracted pens, earphones, half a packet of crisps, coins, and last of all a blue scientific calculator that I never really understood. I folded the blazer ready for the charity shop. Then, for some reason I will never understand, I tore off my school tie, picked up my nail scissors, and cut it into bits.
Next came my PE kit. Shiny blue shorts and a blue striped rugby shirt. How I hated PE. Last out of the PE bag came the long blue knee socks which had hidden many mottled blue bruises picked up from playing rugby and football.
Why did I ever play those sports?
I’ll answer that. Because the school said we had to have equality, and girls could play the same sports as boys even if we weren’t interested.
Suddenly, I felt tears prickle.
It was such a big deal, leaving school.
My Nan would say I was a having a ‘fit of the blues’. All through my teenage years, if I was upset or angry, she would say that to my mum ‘leave her be, she’s just a bit blue’.
But today I just realised something was over, ended, and it was scary.
I dry my tears quickly. I don’t want anyone to know how much I care.
Some of the kids said they were going to have a party later and they were going to burn all their books.
I don’t want to do that. What if I fail my exams?
I’m going to need to re-take and then I’m going to need to revise all the work that’s in those books.
See, I’m growing up. Looking ahead. Making plans. I am seriously terrified of results day. I know it’s on a knife edge whether I get the grades I need.
I’m hoping to do A Levels and then go on to study Journalism. Quite an ambition for a Dyslexic.
Really, I’m truly frightened. School was a kind of protection. Now it’s out into the big, bad world, and I’m just not ready for that.
But then I remember, it’s the Prom tonight.
I lay back on my bed and see my beautiful blue Prom dress hanging ready on the wardrobe door. My dad said it looks like a nightie but he just doesn’t get fashion. It’s a slip dress.
It is silky, slinky, and sexy. I will look gorgeous. I pick up the pale blue feather earrings I bought in New Look and hold them up against the Prom dress. Such a good contrast. I twist my long blonde hair up and pull down some tendrils. This is how I will have it tonight so the earrings show. Mum has also lent me a lovely choker of blue velvet that she said she wore in the 60s. It looks cool with my hair up. I’ll tell everyone it’s ‘vintage’.
Best of all are the shoes. Mum had them made specially. They are covered with the same dark blue material as the dress. The blue stiletto heels look like weapons.
I’m going to look so damn good. The other girls, all those who were so mean to me, are going to feel ‘blue’ as my Nan would say, just looking at me.
I lay back and think I will have a bit of a sleep before starting to get ready.
Mandy’s coming over at 6 to do my hair and make-up. As I drift off, I wonder why I’ve chosen a Prom outfit that almost mirrors the blue shades of my school uniform?
It’s 2am and I’m home from the Prom. This is the latest I have ever stayed out.
I’ve had just the best time. Tony Edwards, who I have lusted after for three years, kissed me. He said he had been wanting to do that for ages but couldn’t get up the nerve to ask me out. But we’ve left school now and he said things change. He said he’d call me tomorrow, and as I finally lay down to sleep, I do not feel ‘blue’ at all.
Blue(Kristin Dockar)
Blue
By Kristin Dockar
I left school today.
We had the end of term assembly and I sat there quietly as Mr Ederidge, our head teacher for the last five years, told us about the journey we were about to embark upon. He said all those old things like ‘one door’s closing but another is opening’ and I wondered if he ever got bored saying the same old things over and over as each lot of Year 11 students got to the finishing post. I use that term ‘finishing post’ because that is what school has been for me. A long hard race to the finishing post. I’m severely Dyslexic so anything to do with reading and writing has been hard. But they have helped me. I can use a laptop for a lot of the work but it’s still so frustrating. Before they realised that I had difficulties with literacy, I was always in the bottom sets, but I knew I was bright enough. Very annoying.
When Sir finished speaking, everybody hugged, and some of the kids were crying. Loads of people signed my school shirt. Mr Davies, my maths teacher for the last three years, said he’d miss me and we both knew he was lying.
Then the bell rang for the very last time and I walked home with Dom and Lacey. We were all a bit quiet and I knew they were feeling wobbly.
We realised it was big grown up stuff, leaving school.
‘See you later’ I said and walked up my road. I had so much stuff to bring home. There was my huge back-pack full of my books, PE kit, and my handbag. For some reason, it had become ‘cool’ to take a handbag to school, as if we didn’t have enough to hump about!
Emptying my locker had been shocking. I had used it as a dumping ground for the last five years.
Once I got home, I rushed up to my room and off came the dark blue blazer which had imprisoned me for years. From the misshapen pockets I extracted pens, earphones, half a packet of crisps, coins, and last of all a blue scientific calculator that I never really understood. I folded the blazer ready for the charity shop. Then, for some reason I will never understand, I tore off my school tie, picked up my nail scissors, and cut it into bits.
Next came my PE kit. Shiny blue shorts and a blue striped rugby shirt. How I hated PE. Last out of the PE bag came the long blue knee socks which had hidden many mottled blue bruises picked up from playing rugby and football.
Why did I ever play those sports?
I’ll answer that. Because the school said we had to have equality, and girls could play the same sports as boys even if we weren’t interested.
Suddenly, I felt tears prickle.
It was such a big deal, leaving school.
My Nan would say I was a having a ‘fit of the blues’. All through my teenage years, if I was upset or angry, she would say that to my mum ‘leave her be, she’s just a bit blue’.
But today I just realised something was over, ended, and it was scary.
I dry my tears quickly. I don’t want anyone to know how much I care.
Some of the kids said they were going to have a party later and they were going to burn all their books.
I don’t want to do that. What if I fail my exams?
I’m going to need to re-take and then I’m going to need to revise all the work that’s in those books.
See, I’m growing up. Looking ahead. Making plans. I am seriously terrified of results day. I know it’s on a knife edge whether I get the grades I need.
I’m hoping to do A Levels and then go on to study Journalism. Quite an ambition for a Dyslexic.
Really, I’m truly frightened. School was a kind of protection. Now it’s out into the big, bad world, and I’m just not ready for that.
But then I remember, it’s the Prom tonight.
I lay back on my bed and see my beautiful blue Prom dress hanging ready on the wardrobe door. My dad said it looks like a nightie but he just doesn’t get fashion. It’s a slip dress.
It is silky, slinky, and sexy. I will look gorgeous. I pick up the pale blue feather earrings I bought in New Look and hold them up against the Prom dress. Such a good contrast. I twist my long blonde hair up and pull down some tendrils. This is how I will have it tonight so the earrings show. Mum has also lent me a lovely choker of blue velvet that she said she wore in the 60s. It looks cool with my hair up. I’ll tell everyone it’s ‘vintage’.
Best of all are the shoes. Mum had them made specially. They are covered with the same dark blue material as the dress. The blue stiletto heels look like weapons.
I’m going to look so damn good. The other girls, all those who were so mean to me, are going to feel ‘blue’ as my Nan would say, just looking at me.
I lay back and think I will have a bit of a sleep before starting to get ready.
Mandy’s coming over at 6 to do my hair and make-up. As I drift off, I wonder why I’ve chosen a Prom outfit that almost mirrors the blue shades of my school uniform?
It’s 2am and I’m home from the Prom. This is the latest I have ever stayed out.
I’ve had just the best time. Tony Edwards, who I have lusted after for three years, kissed me. He said he had been wanting to do that for ages but couldn’t get up the nerve to ask me out. But we’ve left school now and he said things change. He said he’d call me tomorrow, and as I finally lay down to sleep, I do not feel ‘blue’ at all.
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JD
07/26/2020That was a lovely ending with the promise of a lovely new beginning....
Thanks for sharing your short stories on Storystar, Kristin! : )
Help Us Understand What's Happening
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Help Us Understand What's Happening
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Kristin Dockar
07/27/2020Thank you. I wrote this after watching my grandson leave school very suddenly due to the pandemic.
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