The Outcast

Welcome dear readers to Wassim's ordinary life. Most of these events are true, except the names. This gets to be really fantasy by the second chapter.

“Mona, will you stop fiddling!” Wassim demanded, locking his grip over her hand. Mona groaned loudly, stomping her feet at the pavement as they walked uphill. Wassim threw her a fierce glare only to have it returned with her tongue whipped out up at him. “You’re such a child,” He complained turning his attention back to the sidewalk. 

“So are you, you’re not an adult. You can’t tell me what to do!” Mona yelled keeping her tongue stuck out at him. 

“I’m in fifth grade and I just turned ten, which makes me an adult-”

“It does not! You’re not tall enough; you have to be as tall as Mrs. Dale to be an adult.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is too!” Mona jumped furiously up and down making her point.

“Quit it!” Wassim abruptly stopped turning to face her and keeping a fixed glare mooched over her defiant one. “Look, I’m in the fifth grade and you’re in the second. That makes you a child, so do as I say. Mom told me not to let go of your hand and if I do, she’ll find out and yell at the both of us. So, settle down and keep quiet. Besides, were almost at the bus stop.” It seemed that his words had at last found their way through Mona’s defenses. Her rebellious flare dissolved and she let out a sigh then allowed her older brother to continue leading uphill. “And by the way,” Wassim added a few moments later, “I am an adult.”

“No you’re not,” Mona shook her head, Wassim laughed and that got under her skin. He felt his little sister becoming mutinous so he quickly added, “You’re being very bad and you know what happens when your bad, don’t you?” Mona’s eyes widened, her lips curled together, Wassim stomached a chuckle. “The angels will come down from the sky and scoop you away. They’ll take you with them high up there,” Wassim pointed at the milky blue sky that had a few thin lashes of clouds, “and you’ll be gone for good.” Mona towered her gaze after Wassim’s finger, her grip tightened over his hand. “They might be following us right now, sense you’ve been bad for a long time.” Mona quickly hurled her sight back at the neighborhood, scanning wildly behind her then in front, searching every townhouse in view. “But if you keep holding my hand and never let go, they won’t come.” With that Wassim reestablished his authority over his little sister and for the rest of the walk Mona kept a firm grip around his, too occupied with the thought of angels coming to scoop her off the ground.

They ambled onward through their neighborhood that was full of colorful houses ranging from blue to red, white to purple and anything in between. Finally, they made it to the top of the short hill where a model house, as small as a chair, dug into the dirt ahead of the street reading Hillsdaile. There were other children waiting for the bus, some red-faced with grown-ups holding their hands while the others, the cooler ones, stood alone unaccompanied by their parents. The children watched inquisitively as Wassim, holding his little sisters hand, marched to the bus stop and stood by them. Immediately, Wassim noticed Nick Brown, the coolest kid in the neighborhood, standing ahead of the rest with his hair curling down to his dark eyebrows and his arms crossed over his chest. He was the coolest person in the world. Wassim felt the urge to prove to Jack that he too was worthy of being called cool; that he too could stand at the bus stop without holding anyone’s hand but immediately remembered his mothers stern warnings, to never to let go of his little sisters hands. The first bus came for the very young, for his sister heading for Kings Park Elementary school. The very young ones formed a single line and began to climb up the yellow school bus. Wassim lead his sister into the line, feeling the eyes of Jack over his shoulders. Mona’s turn was coming to climb up the bus and find her assigned seat.  

“Okay time to let go, you can let go of my hand now,” Wassim said easing his grip off his sisters. Mona refused to let go. “Mona, get off!” But his sister’s grip wouldn’t budge.

“B-but I can’t! The angels will take me to the sky if I let go,” Mona shook her head clutching both her hands around his. Mona’s turn had suddenly come. Eyes were now on her as well as on him, eyes of children that judged Wassim, eyes of the adults, eyes of the bus driver who drummed her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Wassim felt an ugly splash of red burning over his cheeks.

“Angels will come for you if you don’t listen to me, so get on that bus!”

“But you said they’ll take me away if I-”

“Stop embarrassing me and let go!” Wassim managed to slip his hand off Mona’s grip and shoved Mona onward onto the bus.

“Come on honey, you know where your assigned seat is, don’t be frightened,” The bus driver formed a warm smile as Mona staggered up the set of stairs and walked to her seat. She sat by the window and when the bus drove off, Wassim caught a glimpse of her terrified expression as she glanced all over the place awaiting the coming of angels.  

“So embarrassing,” Wassim thought out loud. The King’s Glen bus, eased by the curb a few minutes later. Wassim climbed onto the bus and sat, as usual, in its center. He was neither too cool to sit in the back nor was he too much of a loser to sit closer up front by the bus driver, comfortably in-between. Jack, as always, climbed up last- nodding lazily when the driver said her usually good morning. Wassim already knew Jack was heading to the back; he was the king of cool after all. As Jack walked down the aisle past his subjects reaching his throne in the far back, he caught glimpse of Wassim. Nervously, Wassim grinned only to have Jack shaking his head, disapproving, as he passed. Idiot Wassim told himself, that wasn’t cool- you never smile; now you look like a complete loser! The bus took off and in a little while, Wassim was climbing down the bus joining into the mass of students all marching to Kings Glen Secondary School.

            Wassim tossed his bag under his desk, struggled to pull out a notebook from the mess of his book bag and stuck a pencil through his brown curly hair as he read the question of the morning on the board. It was a simple set of math questions he answered quickly in his sloppy handwriting then once he’d finished, stuck the pencil right back through his hair. “Can you take your pencil out of your hair, please? It’s distracting.” The girl sitting beside Wassim said. Her name was Olympia and Wassim thought she was a control nut. She too had finished the questions and sat with a straight back and raised neck with her pencil lying neatly on her notebook.

“I can’t there’s no place to put it,” Wassim shrugged.  

“Try a table, that’s why they were made, to put things on them-,”

“Not happening, Olympia.” The girl heaved an irritated sigh.  

“You’re so annoying,” Olympia grunted folding her arm over her chest, “Why is it so hard for you to be normal?”

“Why is it so hard for you to mind your own business?” Wassim retorted pulling out the pencil from his hair and sticking its eraser side in his nose. Olympia made a disgusted groan before Wassim pointed it at her. She let out a scream which made Wassim chuckle before shoving it back into his hair, Olympia was still screaming and pointing at his pencil.

“Wassim, why are you so disgusting?” A girl from the very front of the class, Andria, turned back. “Can’t you act normal once in your lifetime?”

“Being normal is boring, being unique makes the world a unique place,” Wassim smirked.

“You’re not unique; your weird- there’s a difference.” Andria stated, William, the boy beside her turned and nodded.

“Not only weird, he’s disgusting too,” Olympia added, still pointing at the pencil stuck in his hair with a gagged expression. Wassim rolled his eyes and pulled it out of his uncombed hair.

“All this for a pencil,” He mumbled as he slapped the pencil on his notebook and crossed his arms.

“Why can’t you just disappear?” William, the boy beside Andria, yelled over the class. “Everyone remembers the time you were absent from class. It was so much more peaceful, maybe you should stop coming to school, its better that way.” There was a wave of nods.

“William, why don’t you disappear? It’s obvious nobody likes you!”

“I like him,” Olympia said.

“So do I,” Andria added.

“Me too,” said another, “I like William, he’s funny.” I groaned loudly, William formed a sheepish grin.

“See, we all like William because he’s normal,” Olympia smiled at my humiliation. “How about this- raise your hand if you hate Wassim?” Most of the class raised their hand, only one girl, Sarah, kept her hand down. That is until Andria gave her the look then Sarah quickly came to the fold.

“Sarah?” Wassim said feeling the blow. Sarah was a sweet girl, she wasn’t Wassim’s friend, but she had always defended him.

“Sorry,” She looked apologetic, bowing her head.

“Don’t you see, we don’t want you here,” William dropped his hand, “Its better if you stopped coming all together.”  Wassim was about to retort but faltered when Mr. Balky, the fifth grade teacher, stepped into the classroom. He was a large grown-up with a tight face and stiff jaw. No matter how nice Mr. Balky was, no matter how many times he smiled or joked or made the class laugh, Wassim couldn’t help but feel integrated by his size. To Wassim and his peers alike, Mr. Balky was a mountain sauntering through the class heading for the teachers table. Mr. Balky placed his bag neatly over his table then looked up and smiled to the class.

“Good morning, class.”

“Good morning, Mr. Balky,” The class answers all in one breathe. Mr. Balky turned to the Television set fixed on the wall and switched it on for the school announcements. Two students sat like news anchors talking about the major events in the school. New equipment being built, the Wizard and Oz play being held in the gymnasium this Sunday night and all the boring reasons why to attend. CJ, a boy a few seats away, squirmed in his seat then raised a high-five to the boy beside him, Andrew, when the announcements mentioned basketball try outs at the end of the week. Wassim rolled my eyes knowing CJ was hauling for attention, what agitated Wassim further was the fact that CJ gained the attention he was seeking, attention that was supposed to Wassim’s and no one else.  Wassim as well as the rest of the class stood with hands on top of their hearts for the national anthem that was held immediately after the school announcements.

During class, whether Mr. Balky was lecturing on Math, English, Science or History- Wassim’s thoughts drifted off. A part of him was listening and nodding to Mr. Balky but another part, a larger part was busy fantasizing. It always followed the same pattern of events. It started off with a monster tearing down the classroom door. The monster would be large, massive in fact, bigger than even Mr. Balky so that it would scare him off. The dream went on; the children screamed as the monster approached and huddled them all by a corner. The monster’s greedily eyes scanned the children, eager for a meal. Wassim wondered who the monster would snatch. Usually it was either Olympia or Andria, but today Wassim decided it would be William for being nasty to him in the morning. Yes, William would do. He’d be scooped up by the massive monster. He’d scream, his scream made Wassim smile slyly. He’d probably beg for his life. The monster would laugh a low evil scuffle. Then, just before the monster would gulp him whole, Wassim shoved through his peers and launch a kick right into the belly of the monster. The monster would yell in pain, dropping William who’d scurry off behind Wassim while the monster would flee the scene. Wassim, now a hero.

William would kiss his hand and thank him for saving his life. Nick, the boy from his neighborhood, would enter through the wreaked door then place his crown on Wassim and kneel to the king of cool as would the rest of the class and all the children of Kings Glen. Finally, Wassim would be recognized for the greatness he truly was. Finally, he’d be deemed cool. That’s where it always ended. With the crown lying over his head, his subjects kneeling down to their king of cool. Wassim snap back to the real world, were he was planted in his seat in the classroom full of people who hated him. Where he waited for a monster that would never come and a crown that would never find his head…

Wassim sat on the swings alone in the playground, watching as the rest of his classmates chased one another or played basketball in the court. This was where he usually sat and he hated sitting alone. As a matter of fact, he hated being himself living in his world. It was so boring, so tedious, and so normal. We’ll not exactly normal, kids didn’t like him- but that didn’t make a whole difference did it? Wassim wanted an adventure, a quest, a voyage he could lose himself in. He wanted to be a hero. What he didn’t want was a classroom with a desk and a paper with pencil lying on top waiting to be used. A boy, Wassim’s age, with a blond military buzz and thick rectangular spectacles walked up to Wassim by the swings.

“Leave me alone Mathew, I’m already annoyed,” Wassim kicked the dirt under his shoe.

“I’m not here to make fun of you,” Mathew smiled, Wassim eyed him suspiciously.

“You’re not?”

“Nope,” Mathew pointed back at a full equipped playground with swings and slides and crawl tunnels. It was the site of where the cool kids from my class hung out during recesses. Andria, Olympia, William, CJ, Andrew, they were all there. “We were wondering if you wanted to play Chops. Oliver is absent and we’ve always played it without seven people.” Wassim was familiar the game of Chops. It was a very dumb game. A person would be it, they’d have their eyes closed and would walk around blind trying to tag people, while everyone else ran through the sides or tunnels. If anyone was on the playground floor, the it person could call Chops, and the person running on the playground floor would automatically be it. It was a dumb game because everyone cheated. Everyone peeked. Wassim crossed his arms.

“I hate William, I don’t like Andria or CJ or Andrew. I think Olympia is a control nut and I don’t like you because-,” Wassim paused weighing William with his eyes, scanning for an excuse to hate him, when he found nothing to hate he simply added, “Well, I just don’t like you.” Wassim glanced over Williams shoulder at the cool group. “I know you guys don’t like me either. So why ask me to play with you?” William looked uneasy; Wassim knew there was a catch.  

“Nobody wants to be it, so we thought you being a loser wouldn’t mind starting off being it,” William spoke through a tight jaw. Wassim let out a long sigh, he realized then this was his chance to prove how cool he really was, where he belonged amongst his peers. Not by the swing set alone but in their center, at their heart being their leader. Their crowned king. Wassim hooped out of his seat. “Let the games begin then.”     

Wassim remained it for ten minutes straight. He hated every part of it. They threw things at him, laughed as he stumbled over something. They accused him of cheating even when he wasn’t. It agitated him. He quickly learned how to peek then close his eyes and locate them. He’d nearly snatched William twice and was wondering if the third one would prove to be the charm. He peeked for a second; saw Olympia running through the playground dashing to the other side of the slide. “CHOPS!” Wassim yelled quickly, they sniggered. Olympia never stopped, jumping on top of the side and pulling herself over to the higher terrain. “What are you doing, you were on the ground when I called chops!” Wassim snapped angrily marching to the slide she’d climbed.

“No I wasn’t!” Olympia frowned. “I was always up here, I never went down!”

“Yeah, I was watching, nobody was on the ground when you called Chops!” William came to her aid supported quickly by the others.

“I saw-,” Wassim held back my tongue; he wasn’t supposed to see anything. “Cheaters,” Angrily, he closed his eyes and started to scout with his hand, but this time he was watching half the time. Calling Chops was useless; Wassim knew that, they’d simply lie and say they weren’t on the ground. He’d have to catch one. He pretended he couldn’t see, moving in opposite directions of where a group of them were to fool them then drawing slowly towards them.

He couldn’t make out who was in the group but he thought there were at least three people. He closed his half open eyes as he approached the group standing on the sidelines of the equipment Wassim felt the group about to scurry off, so he pretended not to know they were, circling around himself as if a fool. He heard a few chuckles; they’d bought the act. Good. More sniggering. The group was probably making faces at him. They were only an arm’s reach. Wassim became eager. He’d have to be quick and precise. He decided to say something and as he did he’d catch them off guard and they’d be all his. Of course the moment he’d turn, all of them would run off but he was bound to snatch one.

 “I can’t see anything, can I call quits?” Someone was about to reply. They never got the chance; Wassim swirled and felt the rush of the group as they tried to run off. One failed. He caught whoever it was then opened his eyes forming a victorious grin.

“You’re all mine!” Wassim laughed. The person he’d caught was Andria, she was red faced. Wassim felt so satisfied he could have floated off. The group quickly surrounded around them. All of them red faced. Some had their hands over their mouth. Wassim felt proud. He’d proven his greatness and his quick thinking. He’d defeated the group, now they’d recognize him as the greatest amongst them. Andria looked down at where he’d caught her, where both Wassim’s hands lay. Wassim also followed, and then his pompous smirk dissolved. Suddenly he too was red faced. Wassim’s palms, they were on Andria, lying over her chest, pressed over them hard. Quickly Wassim flung his hands off watching Andria as she slowly climbed up his body and stare at his eyes that were as wide and as scared as hers. Everyone glared at one another, nobody dared break the silence. Mr. Balky called for the class by the school…     

Author's Note

Tell me what you think by the way, anything is fine, as long as its a compliment.... NAW I'm kidding, seriously though whatever thoughts you want to put, please by all means. Even if its the worst insult you can think of, I can stomach it just make sure your attractive enough for me NOT to feel offended. NAW I kid you guys :P.