The Bluestocking 2023-24

Whose names can’t roll off my tongue like the names of my old friends. Their bitter glances, condescending looks, “joking” remarks, They meticulously pick me apart from the inside out. What happened to our 1st grade friendships? When did it become so complicated?

I wish I could go back to Grade 1.

Grade 5: The news channel blasts through our living room – yet again. “Covid-19… Coronavirus… pandemic… put on your mask… sanitize your hands…” I hear it all the time, too many times – WAY too many times – in the comfort of my couch or the warmth of my bed. Yet I miss the monotonous droning of my “boring” teacher, The obnoxious chatters from my childish classmates and The playground time where I laugh and run and fool around with my friends, My friends who are miles away, My friends who are reduced to a computer screen. I’m scared, I’m confused, and I’m so so lonely. Grade 6: The ticking of the clock irks me – tick tick tick tick. I tap my pencil five times on the wooden desk, My eyes glance up down left then right, I tap my foot three times, and I pick at the chipped corners of my desk twice. Question #11… I read it once more. My brain is a ball of yarn, slowly unraveling; giving up on me because It. Just. Doesn’t. Make. Any. Sense. I’d do anything to go back to Grade 1.

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