De senaste två dagarna har vi haft en storytelling workshop i skolan och alltså åhmagaaad vad kul det har vart! Just denna workshop har handlat om storytelling i muntlig form, hur en presenterar, har bra närvaro och så vidare. Jag gillade det så himla mycket. Jag tänkte att jag kunde dela med mig av den historia jag berättade för alla idag. Den handlar om en när gång jag var liten, och arg, så himla arg. Fast ja, ni får den i skriftlig form, på engelska med en hel del stavfel (om jag känner mig själv rätt).
When I was a kid I always hung out with boys, the way they played just seemed so much more alluring to me. The girls my age who lived close to me just wanted to play with dolls all the time and I didn’t enjoy that. It was not always easy being a girl in an all boys crowd. My best friends were of course always very nice to me, but that was not the case for all boys. I lived in a really calm area, no cars were aloud to drive within the neighborhood so it was a very free environment for me as a kid. I felt as if could move around everywhere, that little neighborhood was my whole world. But sometimes I just stuck to the playground right outside the house i lived in. The playground was placed between two apartment buildings and this playground was actually more a single sandbox and simple little square of grass.
One day I was playing by myself in the sandbox, building a cool sand castle with a moat and several floors and special rooms for all of my plastic animals. I was just sitting there enjoying the silence and the repetitive noise of my plastic shovel hitting the wet sand. Unfortunately I was not alone for long in the sandbox. In the other end of it two neighbor boys from the house across from mine joined in. These two boys were bothers and when ever they were out I feel the urge to go back home. This time was no different. They were always picking on me. They said mean things about how ugly my castle was, how much I sucked because I was a girl and the of course they said their classic line ”girls can’t throw”. This was not the first time they’ve said things like that to me and I could feel the anger itch inside of me. At first the anger was just like one tiny mosquito bite, annoying and constantly itching. I remember that I tried to ignore them, but they kept picking on me and for every word they said I could feel another itching mosquito bite pop up on my skin. I couldn’t ignore it any more. My hart was racing, it was pounding so hard it was almost visible. All I wanted was for them to feel how I felt. Then I heard them shouting again, ”girls can’t throw”. All I could think was ”I have to make it stop” , I couldn’t take it any more, my whole body was completely covered with millions of itching bites. So quickly before I even thought about it, I picked up a rock, a big one, so big my tiny hand could’t reach all around it. And then I threw it, a perfect throw, the rock landed right on the head of one of the boys. It felt so good. All the itching went away and my heart skipped a beat. I remember that moment so well the surprise and fascination of what I just did. As soon as the boy got over the chock of what I just did, what just happened to him, he started to cry. Slowly I started to realize what I just did, my body froze and this overwhelming feeling of guilt just flooded all over me. All I could think was “I didn’t mean to hurt him that much!”. All I wanted was for him and his I just older brother to feel like I did and shut up an leave me alone.
Later that evening my dad made me go to their house and apologize. The walk over there was only 100 meters but it felt like we were walking for ever. My legs where so heavy, I had to force myself to take every step, I just wanted to run in the other direction, back home to the comforting smell of flowery softener. When we arrived att the boys house my dad said ”Emelie has something she would like to say to you” and I remember starring on my shoes, how my face turned red and warm, and then I said it. ” I’m so sorry”.
They never teased me again so maybe violence solves problems sometimes.