Who was I last week?
Just another quiet student
with five friends at Milton’s
School (the number one boarding
school for at-risk teens– and according
to their brochure and I quote “Troubled
teens, poor teens, all the disenfranchised
can attend this school free of charge
and be better off”) tucked away
in the Pennsylvania mountains. I was also
poor and my share of run-in with cops
and fifteen. But a lot can happen in a week.
Our days are structured– like prison or the army
we have very little free time in the yard so to
speak. It was Tuesday after dinner, which
was mystery meat and rubber noodles draped
in ketchup. They call it spaghetti, and I wondered
if prisoners have better food. I guess I shouldn’t
complain too much at least it was food more than
what I got most days from home. Back to Tuesday,
I was in my room working on my homework.
My roommate was busy sketching on her bed.
The PA system cackled and the headmaster
said, “All students please go to your common
room.” Weird but maybe the teachers were
going to give us another surprise pep talk.
You know the type– you guys are awesome
and we believe in you. You might not
appreciate what we do, but you will
one day– when you’re older and better off.
My roommate grunted and tossed her book
to the side. The halls were filled
with chatter and laughter. We had no idea
what was going on in the world. TV time
was on Saturdays and the first to the common
room got to choose what to watch. Depending
on who it is, it could be rom coms all day
or cartoons, arty farty films that made no sense,
random reality tv. No news.
The common room was large and had enough
seating for all the everyone in our wing. Plenty
of books, arts and crafts, and games.
Our wing parent stood in her white bathrobe
and had the news on. “Come in girls
and watch.” Her eyes were red and puffy
She shook under her robe like she saw a ghost
or someone she knew died. Our eyes
turned to the TV. The reporter had the
same look in her eyes. Air raid sirens
blared in the background and almost
covered her voice “We have reports
that Philadelphia was hit.” She spoke
from a studio somewhere and then there
was no news. The TV went to snow.
All at once the chatter started. What happened?
What did she mean Philadelphia was hit? Is my
mom okay? Can I call her? What happened
Miss Garvey? What happened out there? Who did
this? Kelly, my best friend, and also from Philadelphia
grabbed my hand. Whatever happened out there
in Philadelphia we both knew were orphans now.
We just had each other. I felt like I should be
crying. But I couldn’t find the tears. I wanted
to cry for my parents but I couldn’t find
the tears. I wanted to cry for the city I loved,
but I couldn’t find the tears. I was numb, empty,
stunned, shocked, gone.
Classes were canceled. The school sequestered
from the world. No one allowed to leave. No one
allowed to come. The sky grew blacker and blacker.
We weren’t allowed outside. People complained
at first then when we all realized something terrible
really terrible happened. People cried. Then we were silent.
They tried to keep our minds busy. Offered extra credit
for those who went to class who did homework
who did anything but stay in their beds. I went to class
because I had nothing else. And I hoped to hear things.
But I heard nothing. Time became nothing. I went to bed
late Thursday night and woke up from a nightmare
I don’t remember anything in the dream, I sat up in bed
and screamed. My clothes were drenched in sweat. My heart
raced out of my chest. My roommate tried to turn
on the light. “I guess the power’s out. Are you okay?
You need me to get Miss Garvey for you?”
“I’ll be okay. Go back to sleep.”
It was just a nightmare after all. Restless and bothered
I walked the halls in the dark. She was right the power
was out. The hallways always were lit. But I could
see in the dark with perfect clarity. I made it to the bathroom
and threw cold water on my face. My reflection in the mirror
was not of Bloody Mary but me. Happy Birthday, I told myself
I wandered the halls until sunrise. In the distance
of the rising blackened sun,
I heard engines, tires and heavy equipment.
Out the window from the second floor, it looked like
the army was coming for us. Why I had no idea. We were
safe here. Our building was large and all connected.
We had plenty of food to last for months according
to the headmaster whom I heard talking to another
wing parent. One wing parent begged to bring her
mother. And the headmaster shook his head and
said he couldn’t let her go. Without power or structure,
others heard them coming. The hallways filled with
students looking out the window. More disjointed chatter.
Are they going to help us? Are they here to make sure
we’re okay? Help is coming. I didn’t think we need help.
Because I was no one special– like an unloved ghost
I pushed my way through and made it to the main entrance.
The headmaster was there. His face long and sad. He held
a bullhorn. He wore his normal clothes but they were disheveled
like he slept in them.
He unlocked the door and went out and I followed. No one
stopped me. I guess there were more important things
to worry about but then a thought hit me. Like a voice
that was mine but none. They can’t see you yet. I
shook my head. I followed the headmaster down
to the gate. A man got out of a Jeep wearing a yellow
radioactive suit but had his hood off.
“Thank god you’re here,” The headmaster started.
“Are we evacuating? Do you have any news to share
with us?” The man in charge spoke on the other side
of the gate, “We are here for your boys over the age of 15.”
“What?” The headmaster asked. The other man produced
a sheet of paper and slipped it through
the bars. “That is signed from the president.
We are to take boys aged 16 and older for
immediate conscription into the United States
military.”
“They are just children,” the headmaster said.
“Sir, this would be easier if you just bring us
the boys and we will be on our way. We
are under martial law now. You don’t want
to lose the others do you? We are authorized
to take what we need with whatever
force I think is necessary.”
They can’t take them. They were like me. If
I were born a boy I would be one of them
sent off to a war we didn’t know was happening.
They can’t take the boys. And for some
reason my body shook. I fell to ground but no
one saw. My cells felt like they exploded
and reborn. It seems like it was slow motion
but time for me stopped. I could see them
but they weren’t moving. I was. That same voice
Use it. It’s yours. Use what? I screamed into
the timeless void. The world went black
and when I came to. They were still in position
like I fell in between seconds and stayed there.
As I stood the headmaster shifted his head.
The man in power looked at me. “How long
have you been there, girl?” He said his brown eyes
burrowing into mine.
“You will not take them,” I said cool, unphased
like I was the one in power. Who was this person?
Had I finally snapped? “Fidelity be a good girl
and go back inside,” the headmaster said.
“What did you say?” the man in power asked.
“You will not take them,” I said once again.
Then it felt like electricity gathered in my body
the wind started to shriek and howl. Black hail
rained from the black clouds. I was filled with
electricity Magic the voice in my head said once
again. I slammed my hands down to the ground
and a white dome spread from impact. It knocked back
the men outside their army trucks. The dome grew
encompassed the school grounds, the boundary
of it at the fence. The man in power
gave an order and they started shooting
bullets at the dome but it didn’t crack.
The headmaster grabbed my arm and I let
him lead me back to the school. Where they waited
with their mouths open. The army shot at us
for another hour and then they were gone.
The headmaster let us outside the dome
held in place. The air fresh and clean
the scant light reflected through the white dome
creating rainbows in every corner.
This week, I am not just another
student but someone with respect
someone revered, better than I was.
I am 16 and I am a witch, just trying
to protect my new family, my community
the only way I don’t really know how.
***
Hey all, here is poem 15. I know I far behind. I was inspired by the prompt for the day, but I need more time to let the idea percolate. Yesterday, was a bad brain day. I felt like there was this thick fog wrapped around my brain. Needless to say, I didn't get anything done including Camp. So I am going to try to catch up on everything today.
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