Mixed Emotions

Mixed Emotions by Mineme Greens


The girl was trying to choke back her tears. She began to glare up at me. Her eyes seemed to be telling me two things: the first was that she was hurt, embarrassed and furious at me; the second seemed to be asking me ‘Why?’ Her arm had a small cut on it and a small trickle of red was beginning to drip onto her pink shirt. As I looked down at her, I realized the unfortunate truth.
Orange and black decorations speckled the halls with reminders of the upcoming holiday at View Acres Elementary School. My sentence of six years in was almost over; I was a ‘mighty’ fifth-grader. Finally, my class was in charge, the big kids, the top dogs, we were the kings and queens of the school.
At the beginning of the school year, our teacher made each of us chose two goals. My first goal was to be a responsible fifth-grader. My other goal was to not change, but this would be harder than it seemed. There was a mystery at my school, and it was a mystery that none of the students, including me, could figure out. When a kid finally became a fifth-grader, they would go through a secret metamorphosis of some sort that changed them from a nice kid to a mean bully. This caused the term ‘big kid’ to be a bad thing.
I fancied myself as a kind and benevolent leader; not necessarily a good role model, but a good leader. In my imagination, I was the fifth-grade version of Robin Hood, protecting the weak and fighting against the cruel bullies. I wouldn’t let being a fifth-grader change me! I was going to be the first nice big kid ever.
You could ask any student at the school if they liked the school lunch, and not a single soul would say yes. The food was disgusting and unhealthy, but most kids ate it anyway. Half of the time the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches were actually frozen, but nobody really cared. What kids really cared about was the half-hour recess, which came right after lunch.
It was the first chilly day of October, and everyone was lining up to go outside and play. As usual I was at the end of the ‘line’. The ‘line’ was really just a crowded hallway of loud, obnoxious kids all eager to burn off some of their energy. I was leaning against the cafeteria wall watching the clock, waiting for the two hands to come together and make the bell ring. I became aware of a small commotion in front of me. I turned my attention away from the creepingly slow clock hands and towards the crowd. I watched as a small blond girl, who looked to be in third grade elbowed her way into the crowd. She completely knocked aside a smaller boy who was only a first-grader.
This was just the type of thing that ticked me off. I hated it when people used their ‘superiority’ to shove others around. This was the reason that I decided to become Robin Hood in the first place. An idea formed in my head as the bell rang, releasing us onto the large playground. I imagined myself in the dashing green outfit my hero always wore as I walked out into the frozen October air.
The blonde girl took off at a run. She ran towards the blacktop where boys played soccer and girls played jump-rope. I followed her quietly, playing the James Bond music in my head. When I caught up to her, I swiftly stuck my leg out and tripped her. The girl shrieked and fell onto the rough asphalt, scraping her arm. Justice had been served.
As I looked her over, I waited for the familiar, warm feeling of victory to wash over me. Instead, I felt something else. Something unpleasant began to creep through my veins, leaving me feeling cold and dirty. It was then that the truth hit me. I wasn’t Robin Hood; rather, I was the bad guy. I had become what I had been trying my damnedest to avoid; just another mean fifth-grader.
I helped the little girl to her feet and walked her to the office to get a Band-Aid for the cut on her arm. I lied and told her that the whole thing was an accident, and then I gave her some of the Gummy Bats I had in my pocket, in order to put a smile back on her tear-stained face.. I remember that after she left the school nurse’s office, I sat alone on the cot. I stared at the gray walls, lost in my thoughts, until the bell rang signaling the end of recess. As I walked through the quiet, empty halls, knowing that I would be late, I thought to myself.
Maybe change wasn’t always a bad thing. Maybe I should just let the change happen, and allow myself to grow up. That day I decided to throw away my imaginary green cloak. I decided to be Ori Nueske, for the better and the worse. Later that day as I packed up my things and took my seat on the bus home, I realized that I had changed a lot.