A Kid Named Alex
Date: May 3rd, 2004 12:17:31 pm - Subscribe
Alex was what the school called 'A transient child'. By the age of 12 he had been enrolled at 20 primary schools - almost two a year. His mother, step-father, two cousins and five siblings moved house whenever social welfare paid a visit. Someone had reported that Alex had been abused again. Alex always wore long sleeves pulled over his arms to hide the bruises, even in Winter. Alex hid behind the visor of a cap he wore back-to-front. Alex rarely looked anyone in the eyes, his face was always down-turned. If he should look up, Alex scowled. He hated school. He hated other kids. He hated teachers. He hated the world. Alex had built a fortress around himself.
Alex didn't believe he was good at anything but fighting. He could throw a mean punch. Alex could scare all of the other children away with his anger. He'd throw tables, chairs and desks as amunition. If Alex hit you - he wouldn't stop.
One day Alex was drawing a picture of the clouds and sea and a sky with one lone bird flying across it to nowhere in particular. The picture was detailed, beautiful, magical. Alex loved drawing.
"That's awesome" Alex's teacher told him.
Alex hated compliments. Alex tore the picture up and pushed over his desk.
One day Alex drew a picture of a lady. She looked like an angel. Somehow Alex drew in such a way he could make the skin on the angel glow. Alex walked up to his teacher, looked up at her and took off his cap.
He gave the picture to his teacher and said, "This is for you."
Alex's teacher thanked him and looked down so that he couldn't see the tears in her eyes. Alex wasn't ready for that.
The next day Alex got a certificate for Art. He shone with pride. The teacher noticed how beautiful his big, brown eyes were, how long and silky his eye lashes were. Alex was beautiful.
"I've never gotten a certificate before." He said.
"Really? That's surprising, you're really talented at art." The teacher told him.
Alex took the certificate home.
He didn't show up for school the next day, or the day after that or the next...
Alex turned up a week later. He had his cap on backwards again and wore long sleeves. The bruise around his eye had faded to yellow, but it was still there, it told a tragic story.
"Hi Alex". His teacher said.
"Fuck off!" Alex shouted.
"What happened?" His teacher asked.
"You made me get a fucken hiding that's what happened!" Alex yelled and ran out of the classroom.
Alex had gotten a hiding from his father. Alex's father hated his certificate. Hated Art.
"Fucken girly subject!" His father had shouted at him tearing up the certificate. "Why couldn't you get a fucken certificate for rugby or something?" and then he'd put the boot in.
Alex stopped drawing.
A few days later his family moved on again. A new suburb. A new school.
The old school stamped his file: "Whereabouts unknown - transient child."
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