'Sticks and stones can break my bones but names can never hurt me' she repeated over and over to herself, though she knew very well it wasn't true. Taunting, mocking voices filling the classroom. One of the boys had drawn Dumbo the elephant on the blackboard, while the rest gathered around her chanting in unison ...'Truly Weird, Trudy Weir, Trudy Weird has elephant ears.'
The fickle finger of fate had bestowed upon Trudy Weir, ears which stuck out at right angles from her head.
She had tried sticking them back with sellotape and her father's Gummy Paper Glue. It just peeled off and stuck in her hair. She prayed every night to God, the Virgin Mary and St Anthony. Each morning upon waking she ran to the mirror desperate for a sign, but pray as hard as she may, an answer came there none. A child with a very determined nature, she redoubled her efforts and went to mass twice on Sundays. Three times on feast days.
Outdoors she wore her hood up to hide her shame and the curious clothes her mother, when sufficiently inebriated, would create on her sewing machine, but indoors she was unmasked, decloaked. Laid bare. 'Holy divine acrobatic Jesus, give my head peace', she implored. It was a magic incantation that her father often used to command silence. The teacher entered and all went quiet.
Mr Collins tolerated no messing in his class and Trudy felt like she could breathe again, at least until hostilities resumed again at lunchtime. But before he could get started with the roll call, his attention was drawn to a loud kerfuffle in the corridor outside. It was a woman's voice, shrieking incoherently and the classroom doors slamming open and shut. Several minutes ticked languidly by before Trudy realised with horror that she recognised the screaming voice. And time seemed to her to stand still as the heavy, lumbering footsteps continued down the hall until finally coming to a halt outside the classroom door. There was a sudden collective intake of breath and all eyes watched as the door handle turned.
There are many and varying accounts of what happened next, for it was a subject hotly discussed at many a dinner table in the subsequent days. But Trudy saw it all in slow motion. Eternally.
Mr Collins, anxious to intercept the intruder, ran for the door, reaching it as it swung open hitting him square in the head. The figure outside, meeting unexpected resistance, lost her footing, tripped over the sill and landed at Mr Collins' feet. There she lay, headscarf skew whiff, nylons torn at the knees.
'Trudy, Trudy' she slurred, her eyes lighting upon her daughter and she attempted to haul herself up, holding Mr Collins' leg.
Laughter filled the room No one could believe the scene unfolding before them as Mr Collins, bending to assist Trudy's mother, abruptly recoiled, and the heady aroma of urine rose into the air.
Trudy died...inside.
Posted in response to @tristancarax's 31sentence contest
The image is my own
Please please please tell me this is not a mostly true story.
It is mostly true but it's two separate incidents combined; one when I was around 8 or 9 where she came up to my school and wandered the corridors screaming until she found me and the other many years later when she came to my place of work and peed herself on the stairs.
I promise only fiction from now on:)
Holy Schmoly, Trudy Weirdy, what a mother!
The ring of authenticity here had me thinking what @owasco just said - but please PLEASE do not stop delivering the truth in the guise of fiction! and what @agmoore2 said is every bit as brilliant as your fiction is - When we're children, we don't own our stories. Other people write the narrative and we're just characters. Telling the story, the way it happened to us, gives us power. You really know how to use that power. That is a quotable quote - now, if I can save it somewhere that I'll find again!
I haven't read any other entries yet, but this one is a winner. You are peerless. Please start writing books, novels, a series - whether a Ramona Quimby age group for an audience, or adults, or both (don't more adults than kids read kid-lit?). You have a gift!!!!
Oh man. Fourth place. Well, I wasn't the judge. Also, we can't have the same person win EVERY week, right? Never let the contest judging shake your confidence (not that you've done so). Sooo many things go into picking and ranking. I hate judging. Hate it, hate it. I don't even like having to pick a number from one to five to slap on a book review.
How could anything shake my confidence with yourself and owasco around? :)
You know very well that it's not the winning, it's the taking part....and I mean that sincerely folks. Of course, it's great to win but the fun is daring to enter. Before Steemit I hadn't written anything since my schooldays other than business letters, so it's a thrill to post, let alone to win.
I love the 31 sentence thing and agmoore's collage, the prompt last week, really spoke to me. It's a brilliant piece. I imagine so many people must have looked at it and felt they would have done exactly the same had they the talent. And yes, her comment was gold too.
You do know I didn't mean for you to stop telling us your story.
So you went through this for decades, this drunken mother coming into your life away from her?
Thankfully only until my early twenties when the poor wretch killed herself with the drink. It's sort of funny at this remove but at the time....well...
oh my god. There is not a thing about that that seems funny to me. How is that funny? Do you have siblings? Was there also a father in this toxic mix? I'm sorry if I am asking too personal of questions. Your stories make a whole lot more sense to me all of a sudden. Not that they didn't make sense! Oh I am ferblungett from today's story.
Ah sure it's a long long time ago and when I write about it now I can how funny it must have looked to others. Yes, I have a brother and funnily enough, we're both teetotalers. My father was absent a lot with his second (secret) family. We were a rum bunch and no mistake.
Sounds like a rich and endless source of material for you, the silver lining.
Thanks for the follow! :>)
I really enjoy your writing ( even though I only read this single story ).
It drew my attention, because I was called 'Dumbo' many times as a kid, due to my flappy ears.
As you can see on pictures of mine in my posts, I now wear my 'trademark' with pride, even though I came close several times to getting them operated to gain self confidence.
Anyhow, this comment wasn't meant to be about me.
Glad to have discovered your work and I'll see you around,
Vincent
Fair play to ya! The minute I could save enough money I got my ears pinned back and, not to be too dramatic about it, it was like getting a new life...Frailty, thy name is woman:)
Thanks for the comment and I'll definitely see you around.
I love this paragraph -
Very funny and quite sad at the same time.
The teacher pissed his pants. lol
Oh no, it was Trudy's mother, not the teacher. Eeeeek, I'll have to rewrite it:)
8-)
I will allow. That would make it so much more embarassing. Yikes. You write a great horror story.
I was kiddin'. I won't rewrite. I hate to revisit anything after I post it unless it's a grammar mistake. Thanks though.
I thought about it after I posted it. It probably won't be fair since it is closed now. You're an honorable man.
Results coming out in about an hour or so.
Ah weirdy this one hit me hard. Felt so sorry for the child. it's terrible. Kids are wankers. The most beautiful looking girls around the mel had sticky out ears when they were small.
Ah, thanks sweetie. I think all those beautiful girls sneaked off for an ear-job as soon as they were able!
@deirdyweirdy, School Days are beautiful and at the same time most of the people hold some memories which brings up the bites of the Taunts which stays with us for long last. Stay blessed.
I don't know about beautiful, mine were like hell on earth.
Thanks for the comment.
Welcome and unfortunate to know that. Stay blessed. 🙂
When we're children, we don't own our stories. Other people write the narrative and we're just characters. Telling the story, the way it happened to us, gives us power. You really know how to use that power.
I winced, of course. You are master of the craft. And how you do that in 31 sentences---discipline and art.
Resteeming.
Very true. I hadn't really thought of it that way. And now that the principal characters in most of my dramas are deceased, well, I can tell it whatever way I want to...Never let the truth get in the way of a good story, as my father often said.
Thanks for your kind words. I think I might try my hand at comedy next!
I can't wait 😁
I fear I forgot my manners yesterday and omitted to thank you for providing the wonderful prompt, so thank you very much. After I stared at it for a while the story just wrote itself.
You are the nicest person.
Ah sure I know! Everyone tells me that.
Hi m'deirdy...Seems I missed this and your last post in my feed, which has been acting kind of weirdy lately, with interruptions soon after I click on it (malicious software???)
Anyway, I just found your post by going directly to your page to have a look :>) Hope all is well with you.
Oh sweetie, they're trying to thwart us and keep us apart. I missed your last 2 posts in my feed too and only found them last night after wondering where you'd gone and checking your page.
Yeah...sumpins up...very, very strange Deirdy…!?!?!?!? It's a conspiracy, I'm almost certain of it!!!
Hello!
This post has been manually curated, resteemed
and gifted with some virtually delicious cake
from the @helpiecake curation team!
Much love to you from all of us at @helpie!
Keep up the great work!
Manually curated by @free-reign.
@helpie is a Community Witness.
Thanks so much guys. I'm delighted.
I loved reading this, so well-written and your words just flow so well. You went through a tough time then, and it's good that you can write about it with some humor. Great writing!
Thanks very much. I'm so glad you found a little humour in it. I did attempt to inject a little.
I love your entry for this week. Some tough competition!
I love this contest. I'm so enthralled with this process and what we all turn out each week using it!
Wow. You survived alot deirdyweidy! How horribly embarrassing. But all that trauma and drama may have had a hand in bestowing upon you such great artistic talent because the hand drawn image is nothing like ever seen by human eyes before due to it's beauty and incomprehensibly perfect form!
Oh Mr J, you're such a wag, you never fail to make me laugh. You know, I would have laid down my pencil some considerable time ago if it wasn't for you. I'm sure that each one of my countless readers thanks you for it.
lol..well I know they do, we are all very thankful that you didn't turn your back on such a divine gift! lol.
You have garnered support from the @bananafish community. We appreciate you're fine work and hope that you will continue to produce awesome content for us to feast our minds on.
Thank you kindly m'dears. Much appreciated.
This is beautifully written and descriptive @deirdyweirdy. 💕 I could feel your pain.
Kids can be cruel to each other and will pick on anything about another one.
Ears that seem large as a child are not so noticeable once the head gets bigger. I knew a girl who ad surgery to pin back hers.
The scene with the mother would be horrifying to anyone but that’s on her. Although not funny, it was like a skit on Saturday Night Live.
I had my own ears pinned back the minute I had the cash and yes, kids can be very cruel.
Thanks a lot for the comment and the vote and the resteem and .....
Welcome @deirdyweirdy. The girl who had her ears pinned back surgical has a daughter with the same ears. Believe it or not these ears are celebrated. She is ten yrs now and is proud of her ears.
Times and attitudes sure have changed. That’s a good thing 😊
Now that's a story! How times have changed indeed.