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The Groomer

By Phantasma

By Rachel JacobsPublished 5 years ago 3 min read
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Carnivorous Girl manga

I sat in biology, tapping my finger tips to the imaginary music I hear in my mind. My teachers mouth moved into shapes that I turned into new ideas. I imagined her as a pilgrim and then a safari huntress, she spoke to us, her clan, inspiring us to hunt, to live. *ring* The bell! I can leave. I forgot about my wild imaginings as I quickly paced down the hallway to the little theatre. My best friend Jay, was already there sitting with our teacher, Mr. Mathan.

“Oh, the lesbians here.” Mr. Mathan said. Jay and I erupted in laughter.

“Bisexual. But whatever.”

“How was biology?” Jay asked me.

“Boring as fuck.” I said.

“Watch your mouth, hooker.” Mr. Mathan said. We all looked at one another and smiled. I loved hanging out after school with Jay and Mathan. Not every kid gets to experience high school like this. The theatre kids, we do everything together, have an amazing teacher who believes in us so much and we love each other. We all support one another. I feel bad for the other kids in high school, to not be apart of something so special. Not everyone has a teacher who mentors and guides them through life.

“Hey, do you wanna ask the group to do boomers and then sleepover at Henry’s?” Jay asked.

“Yeah, that sounds fun!” Jay and I got lost in the conversation of our future weekend plans, I didn’t even notice Mathan get up and grab a thick pile of papers.

“Jordan, I need you to staple this paper to this paper, there needs to be 50 total, ok?” He handed me two big piles of papers. “Jay, we need to talk in my office about a monologue.” Jay nodded his head and they headed to the office hidden behind the tech booth.

I spread out the papers in front of me, stapling them two at a time and neatly placing them in a pile to the right. I always love looking at all the pictures of the past theatre kids on Mathan’s podium. So many faces I don’t recognize, some that I do; they’re a myriad of faces that prove how history repeats itself. Groups of kids who find comfort in theatre, who find healing from this world. My nose always stings like seawater shot into it when my eyes gloss over. Theatre is just a myriad of emotions.

Well, I finished that faster than I thought I would. I want to go see Jay’s monologue.

“Mathan! I’m done! Should I leave them down here?” Silence. I pushed up on my body and walked up the carpet walkway holding the stack of stapled papers. My light-hearted steps felt so quick when the world slowed down for a moment. The door was wide open, my tongue froze in my mouth as I tasted something foul, was it the bits of lunch wanting to rot on my teeth? My eyes stretched open at my realization. Mathan’s back faced me as I locked eyes with Jay. I could see my teachers hand reaching downwards into the privacy of my pubescent friend. The motion of his arm like a professional musician. My mouth was ready for flies. His eyes said one thing and it was “leave”.

I took a step back-wards, swallowed everything I had just seen down. It felt like a horses pill, the image scraped down my esophagus, ripping up the tissue. The secret planted itself into my stomach where I would lose it in the digestion. Instead of freezing forever, I spoke.

“Hey guys, I’m all done.” My own voice sounded different, it lost its color. I was without color.

More silence.

“Okay, we’re coming out.” I stood like a frightened mouse, shaking the feeling away.

I’d never been so correct in my short, young life.

I was right, I was more right than ever, not every kid gets to experience high school like this.

psychological
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About the Creator

Rachel Jacobs

Welcome to The Chameleon Heart.......

@phantasma.philosophy ~ Instagram for my poetry.

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