Some things scare me…or to put it more accurately…certain things trigger the recall of a scary moment in my life. Just moments ago, I realized that something like a whiteboard could bring out a scary memory I have abandoned deeply in the hidden corners of my mind.
A big flip-type whiteboard was delivered to our office. The deliveryman left in a jiffy leaving it behind without any assembly manual or instruction. To break the icy atmosphere as our office has transformed into Siberian tundra via air-conditioning, I joined some of my officemates assembling it.
For others the whiteboard is nothing but a white board, for me it is analogous to a chalkboard, which resembles the giant cruel chalkboard of my childhood. It happened when I was 4 or 5 years old. Though I grew up in my Grandmother’s house, I also spent some time tottering to my mother’s workplace. It was a usual practice that my mother would bring me to her office but there was one single moment that I will never forget.
I met a little girl, we were of the same age, she was also a kid of one the employees. We decided to play “teacher-teacher” when we took fancy of the big and solid chalkboard in front of the building while our mothers were working inside. First scene, she took the role of the teacher and I took my position sitting in the front stairs as the pupil. Second scene, a strong gust of wind came and all of a sudden the chalkboard toppled over onto the little girl, pinning her down helplessly. Third scene, a large commotion followed, I saw a lot of people coming out of their rooms, they seem to run towards me and I felt I was blamed for getting the girl into that situation, though in reality they were running towards her, to rescue her. I could not remember what happened next though I can still remember that scary feeling, a mixed emotion of anxiety, confusion and pain. I stood there in the middle of ogling and nosy people, overwhelming me with a lot of questions I could not bring myself to answer.
I never saw the little girl again. I could not even remember her name or her face as if she completely disappeared from my sight when the chalkboard fell down on her with my very eyes. Last I heard which was ages ago from my mother, the little girl paid for that incident dearly, she suffered a bone fracture that resulted to a permanent damage. That day though, not only one little girl got herself crushed, there was also the other one, the one who stood in perfect horror.
A big flip-type whiteboard was delivered to our office. The deliveryman left in a jiffy leaving it behind without any assembly manual or instruction. To break the icy atmosphere as our office has transformed into Siberian tundra via air-conditioning, I joined some of my officemates assembling it.
For others the whiteboard is nothing but a white board, for me it is analogous to a chalkboard, which resembles the giant cruel chalkboard of my childhood. It happened when I was 4 or 5 years old. Though I grew up in my Grandmother’s house, I also spent some time tottering to my mother’s workplace. It was a usual practice that my mother would bring me to her office but there was one single moment that I will never forget.
I met a little girl, we were of the same age, she was also a kid of one the employees. We decided to play “teacher-teacher” when we took fancy of the big and solid chalkboard in front of the building while our mothers were working inside. First scene, she took the role of the teacher and I took my position sitting in the front stairs as the pupil. Second scene, a strong gust of wind came and all of a sudden the chalkboard toppled over onto the little girl, pinning her down helplessly. Third scene, a large commotion followed, I saw a lot of people coming out of their rooms, they seem to run towards me and I felt I was blamed for getting the girl into that situation, though in reality they were running towards her, to rescue her. I could not remember what happened next though I can still remember that scary feeling, a mixed emotion of anxiety, confusion and pain. I stood there in the middle of ogling and nosy people, overwhelming me with a lot of questions I could not bring myself to answer.
I never saw the little girl again. I could not even remember her name or her face as if she completely disappeared from my sight when the chalkboard fell down on her with my very eyes. Last I heard which was ages ago from my mother, the little girl paid for that incident dearly, she suffered a bone fracture that resulted to a permanent damage. That day though, not only one little girl got herself crushed, there was also the other one, the one who stood in perfect horror.
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