Kimberley Birt
Orange on the Apple Tree I stepped into the schoolyard, sweat pouring down my forehead. My arms shook and I clutched the schoolbag that was slung over my shoulder. Fear flickered in my eyes as I watched my mother's car back out of the car park. How I hated the first day at a new school. Swarms of unfamiliar faces, and everybody staring at you as though you were a zombie. That was bad enough. However, if you were me, you would loathe that terrible day even more. Simply because, not only was I an 'outsider' in this school territory, but I was indigenous. I like that word, indigenous, and I use it constantly. 'Indigenous' sounds heaps better that 'nigger' or 'Abo', which are common taunts, and I'm sick of hearing them.
As a nearby teacher had instructed me, I found the office, and I was given an information card to fill in before I went to class. The first three spaces were easy - Name_______, Birthday______, and Address______. My name was Jamie Akyura, I was born on the 12th May, and I lived at 17 Mulberry Crescent, Nudgee. I scribbled them in, and looked at the next spaces. Parents________, and Medical Problems____________. I stared at the page. How dare they ask such personal questions! 'Oh well,' I sighed, 'I suppose I don't have much of a choice.'
I glanced at the paper again, and fought the urge to screw it up and toss it into the wastepaper basket. Nevertheless, I began to write in my details. Parents - Emilia Simone and Hank Michael. Medical Problems - allergy to soap. Feeling pitiful, I placed the crummy card into a box, and headed for Room 6 - my dreaded classroom. As soon as I stepped into the silent room, I noticed two things - one, every head swivelled around and bored their eyes into me, and two, the girl in the front row. Bright red hair, and devilish green eyes that stared meanly at me, after they finished popping out of their sockets. I get used to that reaction. It wasn't as though I had a crush on her, or even liked her, but she was so ... mean. I could tell, just by looking at her, that she was going to give me trouble.
Boy, was I right. In fact, trouble was an understatement. She made my life hell. Every lunchtime, she abused me. She taunted me with crude names - which I thought were pretty lame, coming from a well respected 12-year-old - and slapped me. Hard. In my mind, I was planning to stick up for myself, but whenever she came, I just stood there like a stuffed rabbit. It was embarrassing. I wanted to fight back, but my legs seemed to freeze, and my tongue felt like rubber. I was scared .. of a girl… and I didn't even know her name! I felt like a great big wimp, but, when I look back, it wasn't entirely my fault. Nobody ever tried to help me, just because I was black. I felt the whole school had turned on me.
That all changed. It was early February, and right in the middle of Social Science class, when Sheila came. Sheila was like pennies from heaven. Why? She was indigenous. I noticed that the "front row girl" gave Sheila the same mean look that she gave me. I felt sorry for Sheila, but I noticed that she just stared back calmly. My mouth dropped open. Superwoman!! The front row girl did not scare Sheila!!! I finished my Social Science in a daze.
Lunchtime came, and Sheila watched coolly as the front row girl approached her.
"Hey, I'm Camille, and you don't belong here. I suggest you shove off now, or I'll have to do it for you", Camille said menacingly. Sheila looked at Camille as if she was crazy.
"Why can't I stand here? I belong here now. This is my school."
Camille looked taken aback, but quickly regained her composure. Lips curled into a snarl, she lunged at Sheila. Sheila neatly stepped out of the way and Camille slapped the air. Camille, outraged, raised a fist, but then the bell rang, and Sheila sighed with relief.
This was a typical day, and it recurred for weeks. I was now standing up for myself when Camille attacked me, and for that I was proud. I had also developed a great deal of admiration for Sheila.
Everything was perfect, until Thursday. Sheila arrived at school as usual. We sat on the swings and chatted until there was crack on the pavement behind us. We turned to look and gasped in horror. Sheila jumped to her feet, and I bravely stood beside her. There in front of us was Camille and her gang. Camille grinned her evil smile and waved a baseball bat menacingly at us.
Sheila, usually calm and collected, lost her cool.
"Why don't you leave us alone, for crying out loud! I'm sick of you and your pathetic group of friends picking on us. Just get lost!"
Camille's eyes widened in rage. She swung the baseball bat at Sheila's head, and the two objects connected with a loud crack. What happened next was all a blur. I screamed as Sheila collapsed on the ground, blood everywhere. Pretty soon, an ambulance roared down the street. Sheila was loaded on a stretcher, and then the ambulance roared back down the street. School was dismissed, and my parents came to collect me.
I was sick for a week after that. My feeling so afraid caused it. Feeling that Sheila might not…. I shook my head, and forced myself not to think about it.
The next day, I went to school, still feeling ill. When I entered class, it was silent. The teacher's eyes seemed red and raw, like she had been crying hard. Her watery eyes glanced at me, and said sniffing, "Jamie, I'm very sorry, but Sheila passed away last night. She suffered a brain haemorrhage."
I froze. No way! Sheila couldn't just die! No! I ran out of the room, ignoring the teacher's pleas to come back.
For days, I lay on my bed and wept. I knew I would never have the courage to face Camille again, and vowed I would never leave the room.
No such luck. The next day, I trudged back to the place of my nightmares. I wished with all my heart that this whole year could be erased and restarted, but, as my mother said, the show must go on.
Camille was nowhere in sight. I guess she'd taken off. I wished I could do the same. The teacher came in and smiled weakly.
"Just to put your minds at rest, I would like to inform you that Camille's court hearing was yesterday, and, unfortunately, the result was not good. She is being sent to the Youth Detention Centre for 6 ½ years," she told us, and then added briskly, "If your English work isn't done by recess, you'll be finishing it during your lunch break."
I sighed. She was obviously trying to put it behind her. I guessed that eventually I would have to do the same. I bit my lip, and focussed on the page in front of me. The opening sentence of my comprehension sent chills up my spine: "don't let obstacles stand in your way, jump over them and keep going."
Andrew Bart, Kimberley Birt, Monique Cannell, Becky Christopherson, Emma Craggs, Hollie Crowley, Jennifer Eustace, Rebecca Evans, Alicia Eyres, Kieran Goulter, Mary Huntress, Robert Illingworth, Katie Kilpatrick, Siobhan Kranz, Kate Norsgaard, Samantha Ong, James Ramsey, Nathan Rieck, Ben Sielaff, Aleisha Sutton, Ruth Thomson, Michael Ward, Alex Wells, Jessica Weston, Kathleen Williams
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