Getting A Glass Of Water

• Alice Schwager, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2011

Do you know what really gets me agitated? That people will not go to sleep at night and how unbearably hot it can get during summer if you have a broken down fan. When you live in a cramped dorm with fifty other kids for four whole terms things like this can actually be like getting a glass of water, which can cause a lot of funny misunderstandings if you are not clear about what you are doing!
My name is Indie Lawless and I attend a co-ed boarding high school called St. Christopher’s as a year eleven student. I have a lot of friends in the school and I have had a lot of interesting experiences too, some of which you would hardly dare to believe, but this story that you are reading, took place when I was a new, little year seven student. I was known as a crafty little troublemaker but I never actually did anything on purpose. I was just a magnet for misfortune.
One of my most famous stunts started one hot summer’s night when my throat ached for a glass of water. I felt too lazy to get up so I just stayed in bed, trying to avoid the inevitable. Moisture broke out on my forehead and my parched throat irritated me. Some girls were sitting altogether on a bed and whispering gossip. Recently we had experienced a couple of sleep walking episodes so the kids were wary whenever someone hopped out of bed. I couldn’t take the torturous heat anymore so I abandoned my laziness and reluctantly pushed myself off my mattress. I wonder now if I should have stayed in bed.
The girls’ chatter ceased as they watched with wide and anxious eyes as I made my way to the boarder commo (kitchen). I felt their stares weigh heavily on the back of my neck but my thirst made me partly oblivious to it as I left through the door. In the commo I filled my cup as much as I could without it spilling and immediately took a huge gulp of it. The cool liquid gushed down my throat in less than two mouthfuls, leaving me feeling pleasantly refreshed. I refilled the cup once again and made my way back to the bedrooms on tiptoe quietly. The girls’ stares returned as soon as I walked back through the door.
A small girl approached me. ‘Indie, are you awake?’ she whispered fearfully to me.
It was around ten o’clock at night so I had to smother my laughter into breathless sounds as I tried to reply to the girl. ‘Yes,’ I laughed, ‘I’m awake!’ It was ridiculously hard to keep myself from laughing so I don’t think she understood me when I said that. I was struggling with how utterly hilarious the question was! It was a funny thing to say even if the person was sleep-walking.
The girl’s eyes widened in concern and she turned back to the bed her friends were sitting on and stated, ‘She’s sleep-walking. Yup, most defiantly!’ I shook my head unnoticeably and decided not to argue. I could tell them in the morning that I had been awake and was just getting a glass of water. That thought seemed reasonable at the time but unfortunately the night didn’t end there. It got worse – much worse.
I had been lying in bed for about five minutes when the girls’ whispers grew irritatingly loud. It was the middle of a school night and I was tired, as grouchy as an old man, as hot as a turkey in an oven and admittedly as stupid as an adolescent. Still, I doubt I would’ve gotten to sleep with the girls talking in what they call whispers. They were so loud!
I didn’t want to make a scene by telling them to be quiet so I grabbed their attentions and made hand signals. You, I pointed at them. Go, I ran my index and middle finger across my other hand. To, I held up two fingers. Sleep, I pressed my hands together and set them against my cheek. I repeated this several times so that they would get the message and then, without waiting to see their expressions, I rolled over and closed my eyes. Unfortunately the girls didn’t get the message.
I had been sweating for about five minutes when panicked whispers crawled into my ear. My eyes flew open and took in the scene before me. Our friendly supervisor Mrs Smith was trying to calm down the terrified girls who had asked me earlier whether I was awake. I felt a sense of dread as I had a terrible feeling about what they were so scared of. Even in my sleepy state I knew somehow I was connected to it.
I pushed my blankets off me and sat up, in the way an irritated, old grouch would. I reluctantly swung my legs over the side of my mattress and cringed as I put my weight on them. I pondered over the minor pain for a second but then the group of girls and Mrs Smith had noticed me get out of bed. Within the dim green light of the exit light on top of the door and my tired, fuzzy sight I could make out them stiffen as they thought the sleep walker was on the move again.
A flash of annoyance fuelled my determination and I marched over to them and whispered through gritted teeth, ‘For the last time, I – AM – AWAKE.’ I crossed my arms stubbornly and glared slightly at the girls for over reacting. To my surprise they whimpered and cowered away from me. I looked at Mrs Smith with questioning wide eyes, confused.
She shifted uncomfortably. ‘These young ladies were under the impression you were – uh how did you put it?’ he looked at the girl who had asked me if I had been awake earlier. ‘Sleep murdering I believe?’
If this had been staged as a cartoon I believe my eyes would have popped out of my head, my mouth would hit the ground while I bellowed ‘WHAAA???’. Since it was night and some people were sleeping I constrained myself to a muffled ‘What?’. The girls explained how they thought I had been sleep walking as I had done it before yesterday night (I was surprised at that piece of news) and the signals I had given them earlier had been misread unfortunately. The dim lighting made it look like I was pointing at them and then slashing my hand across by neck in a beheading motion. No wonder they had been so scared. I could have gotten mad and told them they had been brainless but instead I began my part of the story, calmly, through seven words, ‘I was getting a glass of water.’
Then I spent the next five minutes explaining and convincing them what the hand signals stood for. Trust me when I say a feat easier said than done. After everything had been cleared up the girls started giggling at how silly they had been and despite my grouchy mood, I felt giddy and joined them. Mrs Smith patted us all on the cheek and gave us her sweetest smile as she tucked us all back into bed. This time we all stayed there.
So you may be wondering what the moral of this recount is. Things aren’t always as they seem. So just make sure you always make sure of what you’re seeing before you make a final judgement. Getting a glass of water isn’t as easy as you think.

By Alice Schwager
Based on a true experience