Sally Cambridge: A Snippet From Her Life
Lucy Mcelvogue, Grade 5
I slide down the horse’s back. Its soft, brown coat brushing against me. I lead the horse over to a shimmering lake. The horse plunges into the flowing water, cooling down from the- “Sally Cambridge! You may have a good imagination, but you’re here to learn!” I slowly pick up my pencil and start to write. About a metre away, Stella Smith looks smugly at me. Stella is president of the student council, a member of the golf club and has the best singing voice you have ever heard.
I walk down the corridor. The lockers tower over me. The bell rings. I soon hear a loud thundering noise, louder than thunder itself. This could only mean one thing. I swiftly move to the side of the corridor to wait for everyone to pass. I stare at the reflection of Stella in the window, as she rushes by. As I am looking outside it starts to rain.
I am drenched. My family can’t afford for me to catch the bus anymore. I hate my culture. Just because I have a different skin tone from everyone else, means I don’t have any friends. The bus roars past. As it zooms away, I hear someone shout, “Hey look! There’s chocolate face!” Water showers me from the speed of the bus.
I dump my bag on the table and take out my books. They are, just like me, drenched. My mum walks in. “How was your day at school?” “Good,” I reply. “Apart from getting sent to the principal’s office, getting in trouble at lunch, getting drenched, being called chocolate face and having to walk a kilometre home in the pouring rain. Yeah, if you don’t count them, I had a pretty good day.”A fraction of me felt happy. Maybe even less. “Try to be happy at least. I’ve made chocolate cake!” Mum beamed. “Except I forgot to add an ingredient, so it might not taste as great. Unfortunately.”
THE NEXT DAY...
I’m already late for school, but I happen to come across a black girl like me, around the same age, looking rather lost. I run over to her. “Hi. I’ve never seen you before. Are you new?” I ask. “Yes, I am,” she says and holds out her hand. “I’m from Cattacore. My name is Bloom, by the way.” I shake her hand. “I’m Sally.”
Bloom and I walk into class. “Sally! Why are you late?” Miss Glumstone shouts. “I was just helping Bloom finding her way to class,” I murmur. “You know I don’t tolerate lateness at this school! Write out your spelling words one-hundred times.” Miss Glumstone replies.
Bloom and I walk home together because she only lives across the road. All the way home, we chat about how different our lives are. When we finally arrive home, it is 5:30pm. We say goodbye to each other and I know, from this day on, my life is going to be much better.