It's basically a story about a girl's first day in play school |
There's a certain amount of nervousness attached to your first day at school, and little Fiona knows this better than anyone else, she knows this because she's there, standing in front of her school, her hand clasped tightly in her father's. She has never seen a school before, she has never been away from her parent's before and she can't understand why her father is telling her it will be okay, that he'll see her soon, and she can't understand why the strange lady with the red curly hair is talking to her. Large blue eyes look at her, in a way, Fiona can't comprehend, her mind is racing and her heart is beating fast as her father lets go of her hand, and gives it to this strange lady. She doesn't like how the lady holds her hand, she doesn't like how her father is standing so far away, she starts to cry, the lady tries to sooth her but it just makes things worse. Her father steps in now, he puts his hands on her shoulders and tells her that he will be back soon and that this will be good for her, he kisses her forehead and tweaks her nose, it makes her giggle but as he leaves, her bottom lip begins to quiver but the lady tells her to come with her, she tugs on Fiona's hand and all the little girl can do, is follow. Fiona stops crying, more interested in what's going on around her now, her curiosity getting the better of her as she is led through hallways and past classrooms, she sees many new faces, all shapes and sizes, the colours fascinate her along with the different voices she can hear. Fiona is a quiet child, she doesn't make a lot of noise, all this noise is new to her and she can't help but be interested in the ones who are making the noise, she finds herself wanting to know more about them. The lady opens a door, the door is large and blue, Fiona notes, before she follows the lady into a classroom, there are a lot of desks, all lined together, children sit behind them, all talking amongst themselves but the appearance of a new face gets all their attention and soon, Fiona is caught in many different gazes, brown all the way to blue eyes peer at her, taking in every single part of her. She shifts in place, suddenly feeling self conscious, her cheeks reddened as her stomach churns, she feels odd but she meets their gazes and looks to the lady as she introduces her to the class. The girls and boys all staring at her, stop staring, almost as if her name lessens her interest value, she is no longer new or unknown, she is simply Fiona. Fiona feels strangely angry, for being made to stand in front of these new faces and at the lady with the red curly hair for taking her away from her father, she wants to cry but she doesn't think she can, there are too many people now. The lady places her hand on Fiona's back, talking softly and gently as she guides the little girl to a seat of her very own, Fiona does not fight, she lets herself be led and takes the seat given to her. She looks up to find the other children watching her, some smile, others wave and a few small ones, do nothing at all, they simply blank her and continue colouring in the pictures in front of them. Fiona isn't sure of what to do, she hasn't ever seen this many children before, she had led a quiet life up until now. She waves back, tries a little smile and is pleased as the other children react well by beaming at her, they begin to talk to her, they ask her where she comes from, what her mother and father are like and what her favourite colours are. She feels oddly relaxed as she answers the questions easily, she doesn't need to think, she just smiles and talks back, the children giggle to her words, each moving closer, she is making friends, she has never had any friends until now. She has played with other children before but then their mother's and father's have come to pick them up, having so many children in one place is new to her, as the lady with the blue eyes and red hair talks, the children look back to her, they seem interested by what she says but Fiona notes all of their eyes are on what she holds in her hands and not on the lady herself. She can see the lady is holding books and crayons, she places the books in front of each child, Fiona is included in this and a small pack of crayons comes to rest against her fingers, she looks at the book in awe, so many pictures but she frowns, they are all black and white, she wonders if this is what the crayons are for. Fiona opens the small pack slowly, taking care not to tear the lid, she peers in, observing all the different colours, she chooses a yellow crayon. She briefly wonders if this crayon is like a banana and edible but then she remembers the last time, she ate a similiar crayon and the way it hadn't tasted good and all the crying she had done, she does not want a repeat of that, so she decides against eating it. She places the crayon to the paper and she starts to colour the sky around the rabbit, she doesn't stop to think that sky isn't in fact yellow, it's blue, that doesn't seem to matter as the little girl loses herself to the colouring in, the rabbit rapidly becomes bright pink, and the landscape around it turns multiple shades of blues and greens. She hardly notices the time, she hardly notices the fact she's without her father, she's so caught up in what she's doing and in this new place, that when the bell rings, it jars her from her thoughts and she realises that all this time has past, that the other children are leaving, she wonders what this is, but everything makes sense when her father appears at the door. Her eyes light up, she drops her crayons and runs over to him, wrapping her arms around the only bit she can reach of him, which is his knee at this point, he smiles, leaning down, gathering her into his arms. He asks her how she enjoyed her first day at playschool and she smiles and tells him all about the yellow sky and the pink rabbit. Her father laughs, tells her, he's proud and Fiona giggles some more, and as they walk out of the school, Fiona suddenly declares that she wants to come back tomorrow and her father can't do anything but agree, she is his little girl after all. |