Post by Yuliya on Dec 5, 2007 20:50:28 GMT -5
Seven Years
Dulce Dewmont sat rigidly on a metal chair in a crowded classroom, just like every day. She was waiting, but she didn’t know what for. For seven years she had wondered what it was, and it had to happen before the school year ended.
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Five-year-old Dulce Dewmont played on the sidewalk with her dolls. It was bigger than inside, and it was a sunny day. She loved the sun, a big shining ball of hope. A small bark moved her attention to a figure coming by her on the sidewalk.
It was a girl walking her dog, but not any girl. She had long, golden hair, and she was wearing a long dress and some sort of cloak draped around her shoulders. Connected by a black leash to her was a small, black and white dog, which seemed to be named Sam. When the girl when by Dulce, she couldn’t help but cry out,
“You look like a princess!” Dulce recoiled slightly as the girl stopped.
“You shouldn’t talk to strangers, you know. I might be a bad princess.” Dulce’s eyes grew wide and she took back a step until she saw the bright smile. She was making fun.
“But I’m not a bad princess. I’m not old enough to be bad. And I don’t think I’m mean,” she said as she sat down on the stone wall on the side of the walk. Dulce took two steps forward as curiosity took over her.
“Mean?” she asked innocently.
“Yes, there are mean people. They use words, and sometimes pain to make you feel bad.” Dulce recoiled again. This princess sure knew a lot about bad things.
“But you know what. If anyone ever makes you feel bad, all you have to do is smile, even laugh, and say, ‘I think it’s so funny how you think I care.’” Dulce recorded this in her mind, but being five, it didn’t seem to have much importance.
“Has anyone been mean to you?”
“Sometimes they are. But you just have to smile. If you show them it doesn’t affect you, they’ll stop.” Dulce thought over this, as much as she could. But all she wanted was to hear more from the princess.
“Anything else?” she asked sweetly.
“Of course. How old are you?” Dulce warily raised one hand and carefully put out all fingers.
“Five? That means you have seven years. It’ll be in sixth grade…” the princess seemed to trail off on a path of memories.
“What’s going to happen in seven years?”
“You’ll know it. It’ll be hard to miss. But believe me, it’ll be one of the best experiences of your life,” the princess said as she got up. Dulce followed her a few steps as she left, hoping to hear something else.
“One more thing. Carefully choose the ones you trust, and never hold back your feelings.” And with that, the golden-haired girl turned the corner. Dulce stared after the girl, with big brown eyes.
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Dulce had often seen that girl again, but never again did she speak to her. Why was this? It had always seemed to Dulce that whatever she said was true, and she didn’t want her to come back and say it wasn’t true. Also, even though Dulce knew she was a real person, she wanted for her to stay her fairytale princess. It had always surprised Dulce’s parents when the little girl watched Disney movies, and they could hear her saying, “My princess is cooler,” or, “My princess is going to marry a much more handsome prince.”
Dulce had in fact met mean kids, who teased her because of her glasses. They would say,
“Awww, poor itty bitty Dulce can’t see?” And Dulce did what the princess told her to do. She smiled, even laughed, and then she said.
“I think it’s so funny how you think I care.” Then Dulce had left, leaving the bullies dumbstruck.
Dulce had also followed the rule of carefully choosing whom she trusted. She had seen girls blabbering on about their best friend’s secrets behind their back, and Dulce didn’t want to be the victim of that. She had chosen one best friend to share her secrets with, Charlotte. Charlotte wasn’t much like her. Sure, she liked reading, writing, but she also liked being loud or being the center of attention. Dulce despised everyone’s eyes on her. But they still both talked about how after college they were going to marry a nice person and have twins. The only difference there was that Charlotte wanted twin girls, and Dulce wanted a girl and a boy. They both liked soft music and fuzzy animals, along with books about the Renaissance. They were called, “The Two Polar Twins,” and that’s what they were. And Dulce knew she could trust Charlotte. Charlotte wasn’t the kind of person to do that, and anyway, whom would Charlotte go to? Dulce’s only friend was Charlotte and Charlotte’s only friend was Dulce. That was something Dulce appreciated in Charlotte. Charlotte was one of those people who seemed to be luminous and attract attention, but she still stayed with Dulce.
However, Dulce couldn’t follow the rule about not holding her feelings back. Whenever she saw something that made her feel sad, she would force down her tears. She couldn’t cry in front of everyone, it felt like a weakness. Even though Dulce wasn’t very strong anyway, she didn’t want to give out her last defense.
Even at the age when little girls changed their heroes to rock stars or animal activists, Dulce’s claim was still, “the princess.” But she kept that to herself. Even though she had successfully beaten the bullies who teased her about glasses, she didn’t want to be teased again.
But now, she was worried, sitting in the classroom in May. It had to happen soon, or what if she missed it? Had she missed the wonderful thing? The thing she had been waiting for, for seven years? The princess had said it would happen in sixth grade, but she hadn’t said when, but it had to happen before the end of the school year. Dulce fidgeted with a dainty necklace around her neck. Charlotte was on the other side of the classroom. Here, in this assigned seating, there was a boy across from her and a girl on each side. She didn’t know the girls, but she knew the boy, Anthony. He teased her, and it was about something that made her cringe.
“If you faint again I’m going to pull you to the office by your hair,” he hissed. She had fainted; in fact, she fainted almost every two months. Nobody was sure of the reason. Her blood sugar seemed fine, and they had never been talking about things that would’ve done that to her. Anthony had been the person to make sure the chair didn’t fall on top of her, and to pay back the debt, she had to withstand his teasing. In thinking about it, the recognizable feeling of dizzy-ness came back to her. She clutched the desk and breathed heavily. Closing her eyes, she slowly slid down onto the ground so that if she fainted she would already be down.
“Oh great, not again,” she heard in the exasperated tone of Anthony. Opening her eyes, she saw his big grey ones looking down on her.
“Dulce! You okay?” That was Charlotte. As Dulce’s vision came back, in her view came Charlotte, seemingly with an aura of admiration. Dulce now had the attention she didn’t want as Charlotte helped her up. She wondered what drew people to Charlotte. Looking at her friend, it wasn’t hard to pinpoint the reasons.
One, Charlotte was pretty. She had beautiful; almond shaped eyes that were an olive green, hazel mixture. Her lips were that perfect shade of pink, and her nose was small and dainty. Her long red hair curled around her like a wave to the sand. Dulce’s dark brown curls lay limply at her chin, with huge, glassy brown eyes. Her lips were slightly tinted brown and her nose was big.
Two, Charlotte had fashion. She could match up colors, even managing to make her shoes and her earrings the same color. Whereas Dulce, according to others, had the fashion sense of an old hippie grandmother. Dulce cringed whenever they said that, because it was in fact whom she lived with.
“Uh…Dulce?” She was surprised to hear Anthony again, but she realized her mind must have wandered off.
“I’m okay,” Dulce reassured the people who didn’t actually care, who had only come
because of the show. She wished all the eyes would leave from her. It happened all the time, she didn’t see why it had to be a big ordeal every time she felt the least bit faint.
“Will everyone please return to their desks and continue their work,” called out their teacher, “Miss Dewmont, would you like to go to the nurse’s office?”
“No Ms. Lee-Sang, I’m fine.” Dulce sank into her chair and hunched her shoulders forward into everyone fell into their regular rhythm. She opened her textbook to the desired page and smiled. It was almost as if Ms. Lee-Sang had planned the lesson for her especially. Michaelangelo was her favorite Renaissance man, and this whole unit seemed to be focused on his works. Quickly, a finger reached up to touch her necklace to make sure it was still there. She sighed with relief as she felt its coolness. It wasn’t as if it were particularly valuable, it was mysterious and soothing for her. It had arrived for her earlier in October for her birthday, unmarked, without a card. It was just a small tree, daintily intricate, with small pieces of jade for leaves.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a small paper airplane hit her. It was perfectly sculpted, out of only one sheet of paper, another one of Charlotte’s talents. From across the room, Charlotte asked in sign language,
“U OK?” Dulce didn’t even pause before signing a y, and that was enough to let Charlotte know that she was. Without letting another thought barge into her mind, Dulce lost herself in Creation of Man.
