It Was Blurry Since The First Day
“What do you wanna be when you grow up? Yes! You! You short boy at the front desk in the first row" asked Miss Jennings.
"Hi! Good morning class. My name is Sam Saunders. When I grow up I want to be an Engineer."
The first applaud was heard at the middle raw and then the applaud to the echo followed. The entire class was awestruck hearing this short boy spitting this big dream with absolute confidence. Including Miss Jennings, I guess. How did this motherfucker know about this kind of career because it's the first time in my living years hearing this big word? I asked myself.
To look back at that time, we were in elementary school in 4th grade and I had no fucking clue what I wanted to be when I grow up, I assume I was dumb as dirt and childish.
"You, at the back, introduce yourself and tell the whole class what you want to be when you're older," said Miss Jennings.
"Good morning class. My name is Sean Davison and I want to be a Policeman when I'm older."
A rapid, intense round of applause was so deafening that it left me wondering what the fuck I wanted to be when I grew up. I wondered if I would also get the same applause from the class just as other students did. God knows. And don't forget, even the Devil knows as well.
Miss Jennings continued pointing to other students in the class and most of them haven't decided yet what they want to be exactly when they grow up. I'm ten times out of ten and for sure their responses weren't true. Their responses were to please this tall, unsexy lady with a long ass and blow up the minds of their fellow students. She kept on pointing and pointing and pointing at these clueless and confused poor children, although some of them I’ve really forgotten who the fuck they were. She then came up to this smartest yet unattractive poor girl in the class. This girl was a straight "A" student and was loved by almost all the teachers who taught her because she never disobeyed orders. Ever!
One thing I remember about this girl is that she was always sick. Her sickness was mild tho because she was present almost every school day in the class. She was able to maintain her obediency of staying true to the school rules. Even if she happened to be absent a bit, she never lied. She didn't say much, she just brought up the doctor's note or brought her parents to the school principal to explain why she was absent. Or late (argh! I almost forgot that part being late).
This fuckfaced girl looked exactly like an infant of a fly. Her name was Sabrina.
Miss Jennings often suffered from sinusitis. Sinus or asthma? Shit! I don't remember very well what it is that she often suffered from. I think it was asthma. But sinus had a high chance of attacking her.
"Hello class!" she was well-spoken and fluent in English, "My name is Sabrina Murray. When I grow up I want to be a Nurse,” she said with a little bit of spookiness.
Another rapid but this time very intense round of applause came from all of us and from every tip of our fingers including the pinkie fingers. Almost everybody was amazed by this unattractive girl’s dream of being a nurse. Yup! Everybody was amazed except me and those who thought like me because nothing interested me about nursery and the like.
Sabrina was nervous as a whore in church but didn’t want to display it up on the surface when she said her banal dream in front of us as a class. She was a highly introverted type and shy. She never fights or argues. She’d simply report your ass to the teachers. And she used to cry a lot.
I don’t know whether Sabrina had traumatic issues or what. But I recall the other day when my butt was passing along the teacher’s class during lunchtime, and there she was, covering her tiny, unattractive face with a lot of tissue paper that was somewhat wet because of her tears. She was sobering and crying and snorting through those countless pieces of tissue paper. The atmosphere was immensely tense, I could see. And sense.
Maybe that’s why Sabrina was almost every teacher’s favorite student because the teachers didn’t want to add more to her depressing issues. And maybe that’s why she was a straight "A" student because they understood her depressing personal issues. Or traumas. Who knows? God, do you? Oh, no! Where’s the Devil?
This unsexy lady with a long ass continued with her folly classroom rituals of asking us what we DO NOT KNOW as young and stupid students until she came across this yellowish girl whom I thought I’d forgotten yet because she was...
"Hello there!" a smile coming out from Miss Jennings didn't surprise me in any way, "How are you coping, Miss Mustard? "
This yellowish girl sighed to show some kind of relief (I felt relieved too after I noticed that she felt relieved as well). Sitting in a confined space for too long is not a joke, especially at a classic wooden desk where the room was dark and I recall the temperature was fucking low. It was cold as fuck. And this girl was a girl, she liked to talk. And staying silent for a long time was an insufferable torture to her, I'm sure.
"I'm fine, Mam" she replied with a sorta of low-in-pitch, deeper, and sexy tone of voice.
"Tell us what you want to be when you are older" she smiled, unusually.
"Hello everyone! My name is Ellisa Mustard. When I am older, my dream is to be a Doctor" she said with an emphasis as she frequently moved her entire body in a super, fascinating, and slow motion under that horrendous school uniform. Dawg, her body movement was sexy, my cock rose at that time, I recall. And I’m sorry to confess that.
Without any doubts, again, a very, very..., very intense round of applause combined with various kinds of whistles from boys in the class. And my beclap was so loud in a way that my hands turned red because I wanted her to notice me and because I really fucked with her, to be honest.
This round of applause from the whole class was different from other applauses if I took a look a little bit closer for a second. It also showed some outlandish reverence, I sensed it. Yep, it did show some reverence, except from those bastards who really didn’t give a flying fuck about her.
Miss Jennings continued with her folly rituals of being a class teacher by pointing and pointing and pointing at other undecided-yet-children by asking them what they want to be when they're older. My brain had forgotten the majority of these children's names because the number of us was close to 60 in the classroom. It smelled shame and vacillatory to these young species most of them were forced by the old species (their parents or guardians) to get their asses confined and follow the rules of the shitty school system and force themselves to figure out what they want to be when they grow up by looking up to the products of forced schooling. And then after that they were expected to select their preferences from these school products--say, doctors, scientists, lawyers, teachers, nurses, cops, and so on and so forth.
But there's this disobedient kid in the class this unsexy teacher came across. Even today, this kid's response blew my mind and I think I like him, wherever this motherfucker is.
"Stand up! Good, tell the class what you want to be when you're older. Go ahead" said this dumbfuck teacher.
"Good morning! My name is Anthony Lincoln. Umm, when I grow up I wanna be a gangster."
The whole class laughed at him. I too laughed. But I knew that this kid was a rulebreaker and a hooligan. Miss Jennings laughed for a couple of seconds and frowned upon Anthony because Anthony didn't prefer to pick his career from the ones that almost every motherfucker expected and admired.
"Why do you want to be a gangster?" she asked him with so much confusion.
This class teacher just froze. She was wearing a black turtleneck with black jeans and profulgent black cowboy boots. Her black jeans exposed her ass. She displayed some piece of ass but the issue is that it was long though, which made it appear pretty much bad.
She stood there with a chalkboard in her hand. Oh! I almost forgot to let you know that she also has a long nose. Her skin color was brownish but her long nose was turning darker with tiny brown spots around it because she was rubbing it often as I told you that she suffered from sinus.
"Because I like it, mam. It’s my choice and...!" Anthony slowly rebelled.
"Whoa! Are you crazy? Is that what you want to be when you grow up? No no, Anthony, think of something else other than that!" asked Miss Jennings with so much confusion (you could see it in her face).
The whole class burst out laughing. I wasn't surprised tho, naw, I felt like I already knew what his response would be. This was because Anthony brought a revolver gun to the class when we were in the 2nd grade. Fortuitously, the revolver was just a toy gun, therefore, our second-grade class teacher took it and called his parents to come the next day.
Anthony mother's arrived, but she arrived late and you see that she was in a rush. She had darkish skin like his hooligan son. She was wearing dark clothes and carried a navy purse.
This mother had a nice svelte body structure and a nice-shaped piece of ass, I bet she knew how to move her hips and buttocks in a sexalicious way. Anthony's father didn't go wrong with that kind of a body. They both did the talking and talking and talking together with our class teacher. I heard that this mother's son stole that revolver toy gun. So we can say this mother didn't see her son stealing it.
I saw Anthony's mother grabbing her navy purse and goodbyeing and shaking one another's hands. I saw her nice-shaped piece of ass wobbling through those dark jeans towards the door to exit the class. And then she was gone.
A'ight, back to Miss Jennings' folly rituals. Miss Jennings felt defeated by Anthony's response of being a fucking gangster. She didn't know what to say. She then proceeded.
"At the last row in the second desk, yes you! Stand up and tell us what you want to be when you're older" Miss Jennings' tone of voice was slightly calm at this moment because it was a fat disappointment to her to be unable to indoctrinate this nonconforming human being the stuff that she had been sent by the invisible bureaucracy to drill in the heads of innocent children.
Regrettably, it was also a fat disappointment to her because she felt like a failure for not being able to program this nonconforming human being and turn him into an indifferent person.
"Morning class, my name is Alexander Powell. When I grow up I want to be a soccer football player." he sat his ass down and didn't ask if he should sit down or not. He continued making his stertorous breathings.
The first round of applause was heard coming out from his hands (Alexander Powell), what the shit? Okayly, and then the regular one followed. At this time, it was just a regular round of applause as if an old grey man was just celebrating his birthday after breathing on planet Earth for more than 8 decades. It was a mundane one but I liked it because it wasn’t deafening and overexaggerated. Brothers and sisters, it was so chilled like... fuggedaboudit.
Then after a couple of students have gotten their butts up to tell us their dream careers, Miss Jennings pointed to my friend beside me whom I was sitting at the same desk with him. Wait, is it me who was who was sitting at the same desk or him? Shit, I don’t know.
But he did what Miss Jennings wanted us to practice. He got his ass up and told us about his dream career. His name was Thomas. He was my deskmate and my friend. I don’t remember what Thomas said. But what I do remember about him is that he had darkish skin, a bald, duck-footed, and was a fucking insane comedian. I liked him, a lot. I would be an asshole if I don’t mention that it was frankly funny to be around him.
Then Miss Jennings eyeballed me together with her long nose pointed towards me so strangely that I got nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Brothers (and you too sexy sisters out there who’ve reached this section), another thing that made me nervous is that I was quite a misbehaving handsome boy. I wasn’t that much of a troublemaker, but I almost always get into trouble. And I usually get caught in my shits of troubles, therefore, a young man created and earned himself a fucked up reputation of nonconformity and being a dickhead kid almost every state-certified teacher dislikes.
I asked myself, Luyanda, what do you wanna be exactly? Shit, I don’t know. Maybe...
Wait, will my classmates give me the same applause as they did to other previous students? Fuck, we don’t know again.
Are they going to take my true dream career seriously if I open my mouth and announce it? I asked myself. But we don’t seem to know, nigga.
"Troublemaker!" she called me. "Stand up and stop laughing with your friend there. Thomas shut up! Yes, put your shirt tucked in and face the whole class!" she shouted as if I had done something wrong. She always assumed every ounce of my actions were wrong. I hated that she always assumed that I needed to be fucking disciplined and acquire some professional constant surveillance. I hated all that shit.
"Good boy," she moaned and the entire class laughed. "Mr Mbatha, let us hear what is it that you want to be when you're older."
I couldn’t think of any single option. Fuck man! Christ, where are you dawg? I didn’t know what I wanted to be. I first eyeballed that yellowish-sexy soul of Ellisa and then faced the whole stupid class. Everybody gave me an intense, uncomfortable look that made me feel shy and lambish.
Well, and then my mind came up with an option that I thought everybody would like and not laugh at. It was a socially acceptable one and quite admired at those ages.
I put both of my hands on top of the desk to lean forward. And then I began to speak.
