Exerpt From My Last English Essays
" I once had a nasty encounter with power when I was in elementary school. I had just begun the fifth grade, which was the highest level you can go before being forced to move on to middle school. But at the moment, I was the big man on campus. I had earned this territory by biding my time. The incident I remember happened during recess. There was a playground the teachers had taken us students for years. It was surrounded by Maritime Pine in all directions, an area that had been my personal sanctuary for that time. All the other fools were dangling off the monkey bars or bothering with the swing set. I had wondered off, as I often did, interweaving thru the columns of conifers, more to be alone than to explore. Solace can often be found in solitude. Maybe it was a meditation in self discovery, an act of self-exploration. Or maybe there wasn’t a point since was only ten years old.
Of course, like anyone wanting to be alone, I regrettably found myself in the company of others. I was being tailed by about four or five of second graders. They were clinging close to me like a pack of wild dog begging for scraps or like a team of anthropologist following an elusive Silverback Gorilla. All eyes were on me. Being the upperclassman, naturally I had to taking charge of the situation. I had to let these tykes know my spot on the totem pole. If we were going to play “follow the leader”, they ought to at least know who the leader was. I immediately started showcasing my various physical abilities. I began climbing trees, throwing pine cones incredibly long distances. I was practically running circles around these kids. Their wide eyes could only marvel at my Herculean feats. I was a sight to behold.
I withheld my ultimate trick for the finale. It was my pièce de résistance. Lizard catching was somewhat of a forte of mine, it was something I had mastered over the years. I was practically a professional at this point. It was only a matter of actually finding the elusive reptilians, catching them was the easy part. My eyes scoured the land. My faithful group watched silently in wonderment. Finally after a few minutes, I managed to snag one that was basking in the sun off the side of a tree.
Much to my dismay, I discovered the lizard dead upon opening my hands. Apparently, I had crushed the poor little guy’s skull between the weight of the tree and the impact of the palm. I was in utter shock. This had never happened to me before. I had never killed anything before. I had never failed before.
The children had gathered around me as I took pity on the lizard. My head hung in shame. I was absolutely heartbroken and was in a weakened state. I believe one of the second graders had sensed this, much like a shark tasting blood in the water right before a feeding frenzy, because he started attacking me. He called me names. He called me a murderer. My wounds were still fresh and he was just adding to the problem. Then he began swinging his tiny fists at me. I had to defend myself and what little pride I had left, so I took one of his arms and twisted behind the little insurgent’s back. Consequently he did something I had not expected him to do.
He began crying.
I had lost control of the situation. It was not merely tears coming out of this kid, it was almost a shriek. He was full on sobbing. I was as if I was trying to kill him the way he was letting on. Fear took possession of my body. What if an adult found out? What would my teacher do to me? I could not let this happen, so I clamped down on the brat’s mouth with my hand. I held on tightly until he finally stopped. I truly felt sorry for the kid. I think that is why this memory is so vivid in my mind. He didn’t deserve to be treated this way. When I eventually let go, he and the others scampered off. I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted to be left alone.
Like Orwell felt the need to assert his power as a British officer, I felt the need to show off in front of those kids since I was older than them. Orwell’s situation resulted in something he did not want to do; mine resulted in something I will always regret. Such is the nature of power. It can make men into monsters, even when they know what they are doing is wrong."
My teacher forced me to read my entire essay in front of the class the other day. Everyone applauded when I was done. I can't lie.... It was a good moment. She's nice though, my teacher, we always talk for a good hour after class. Maybe I should start writing again....