The Apology

The Apology

"On tonight's broadcast, the Roman Catholic Church issued an official apology for its role in the controversial residential schools. This follows the backlash from the ongoing investigation into various atrocities committed by the church to the aboriginal peoples. Immediate reactions from the aboriginal community suggest that the apology is too late. Dan Johnson reports live from Ottawa . . ."

Clarissa smiled and closed her eyes. It was nice to be alone once in awhile, to be able to sit in the quiet and reminisce about the past.

Her mom was in the other room packing. Clarissa smiled to herself. All she wanted was to jump around her room, but her mother had told her that she needed to be quiet. She had been sleeping when a loud knocking came at the door to her family's house. Her father answered it. Outside were two strange looking men. Their skin was much lighter than her own, almost white, and they spoke a language that only her parents seemed to understand. When they left, her mother had turned to her and explained that she was an extremely fortunate girl.

"You're very lucky Clarissa," her mother's words flowed quickly, "they are going to take you to a nice school, where you can learn all sorts of new things, and make lots of new friends."

"Really mommy? When do I get to go? Is Joseph coming? Can I take my mini-Clarissa?" she paused, "Who are they?"

At these words, her mother seemed to pause and think, but only a moment passed before she spoke again, "You and Joseph both get to go, but we don't have a lot of time. They are the nice men that live in the outside our village, in the big city."

Within the hour, both Joseph and I were packed. We were only allowed to bring one small satchel each, but I managed to fit my treasured little doll in while my mother was not looking. The city men came to the door once more, and ushered me and my little brother onto a path that led to the train. I had never taken the train before. It was all so exciting! I turned one last time to wave at my parents. My mother had tears running down her face. I knew that she was sad. Her little girl was all grown up. I was only ten years old and I was getting to go to the big-kids school. For a second, I wondered why Joseph got to go; he was only six after all, but none of that mattered because I was getting to go to school!

The next few weeks passed by quickly. There was always so much going on, so much to learn. I quickly made friends and we spent our free time out in the play yard, playing games. The teachers didn't like it when we played our own games, but they taught us new ones like Red Rover, so it didn't really matter. I had tried in the beginning to keep an eye out for Joseph, but I never seemed to see him. He played in a separate playground, and we were in different grades. But I knew that he had to be having as much fun as I was.

One day, a little boy ran up to me in tears, "You're Joey's sister, right?" I nodded, and he continued on, "You need to come with me. Joey's hurt." The boy held out his hand and I grabbed on. We rushed through the schoolyard, over to one of the buildings. He led me inside a small room, with all of the curtains drawn. There on one of the mattresses was my little brother. His face was scrunched up in pain, and he had angry red marks all over his back. I knew that he needed help. So I told him I'd be right back, and ran out of the room.

I raced over to my building, and felt under my pillow. Perfect. Clarissa could stay with Joseph until he got better. I left my room and began the trek back to his room. On my way, I found one of my teachers, Sister Hazel.

"Sister! Sister! Sister! My brother's been hurt! I need your help!" I grabbed her hand and led her to his room. A silence fell, as I anxiously awaited her response.

"There's nothing wrong with him," the Sister explained, "he was playing one of your games; he needed to be punished." With that, she turned to leave the room.

"But he's hurt. He needs help!" I flung my arms out, and Clarissa fell to the floor. Sister Hazel stopped at the door, Clarissa lying at her feet.

"What is this?" she demanded.

"My doll, the one mmm, mm-my mother made me"

"These are not allowed. Go back to your room while I talk to the principal. Don't come in this room again."


* * * * * * * *
Clarissa slowly opened her eyes. She picked up the bottle next to her and raised it to her mouth. The glass felt cold against lips as she opened them, letting the liquid trickle down her throat. It was nice to be alone, to remember the past.