Pencils & Polaroids

36: nobody smart plays fair

Eight out of ten days, I function as an early bird. The other two odds are when I pull a night owl or a flamingo. Flamingos never fully sleep. Half of their minds are always said to be alert and awake. 

Today, I pulled a flamingo. It's wholly because of Chief Adrian Lang's guest appearance last night. We personally were made to speak for one minute justifying why we should still remain in the program and not be sent home after the fiasco. 

We all did a convincing job because no one went home, but the stress just added to the pile of things I worry about. I doubt if anyone got to sleep with the pressure of a knife hanging above our heads. A generation that loves sleeping but can't sleep on time—what a generation of clowns we are. Nonetheless, my list seems to be growing with every new event, something like this:

(a) I am not the bird with the most points on the points table, (b) my team isn't ranked first, (c) I broke a boy's nose, (d) Skipper Collin Hunt's word of advice is causing my mind to spiral, (e) the memory tape of my father hitting me is playing on a loop inside my head, (f) I don't understand the dynamics between certain people--male individuals--and me, (g) Stella Dcruz is in a happy relationship with Luke Myers and I think my brother is trying to get in between them, and (h) I'm stressing and worrying about all these things so much--I am not able to close my eyes and put myself to sleep. 

If all of these weren't worse, Archer snitched about my right hook to my father, who called me after our campfire dinner last night. I survived his thirty-minute phone call/lecture about nonviolence and respectful behavior without losing it at him only because Sam muzzled me every time I almost cursed. 

When I snuck out of our room half an hour ago, Sam was in a deep sleep, plausibly tired of all the night drama. The sky was still coveted black and the clock screened the time: 04:13 am. In my black gym wear and a dry-fit grey jacket, I plugged in my AirPods and sprinted for a run into the mini-pine forest. We don't have to be back for breakfast until 07:30 am which gives me a solid three-hour time frame to clear my head. 

I mark my way in as I run through the tall pine trees in the chilly Redwood campus. Every time I exhale, a puff of fog mixed with dew soars out of my mouth. As if competing with my speeding thoughts, I blindly run without looking at the time or the sky. When I'm breathless and bending to the ground in support of my knees to balance my hammering heartbeat, I take notice of the light aqua blue that's painted the dark sky bright. There is no sign of the sun but there is light and it's better than running in the dark. 

I raise my foot to a boulder to tie my freed laces when I hear a gurgling sound that my instinct tells me belongs to a bear or a hungry leopard. 

I take out one of my AirPods but I don't turn around just yet. The pine forest is in still silence except for the faint and distant bird chirps. It must be my paranoia--there are no bears or leopards on the campus. 

Half a yawn surpasses my mouth before the words, "Trying to abscond, are we?" makes me tremble and I drop the AirPod I'm holding to the muddy grass.  

With a hand holding my chest from falling apart at the sound of the voice, I glance rearwards only to behold Rainer Barcross peppily smiling at me as he side-leans on a pine tree with both his hands interred in his grey jogger shorts. 

It's high time we normalized being quiet in the morning. 

"Ugh," I roll my eyes for the first time today and dip to the ground in search of my AirPod. "I don't flee. And even if I wanted to, I'd run the other way to the gates." 

"I was referring to jumping off the hill." I side-glance at him pointing to the summit not far away from where we stand which I had paid no attention to until he mentioned it.