SwedenSara Week 49: Human Waste

SwedenSara
Friday




Picture 1

Picture 2


SwedenSara’s Choice: Picture 1


Title:

Human Waste
She waits in the shadows behind the school gym, hidden from the rest of them, pressed against the wall of the old brick building. The smell of rotting food from the trash cans has become so familiar that it feels like home. People rarely come here because of the stench, and the cans offer a place to hide should someone turn up anyway. She’s noticed that spending time close to trashes sometimes gives her an advantage, and sometimes makes things worse. They often take detours in the school corridors to avoid the smell, but sometimes they tease her about it, adding it to the long list of things they consider wrong, unnatural and disgusting about her. It makes sense to her, though. To them, she’s nothing more than human waste, garbage, white trash. She might as well smell like it.

As the parking lot in front of the school becomes more and more deserted, she finally sneaks out of her hiding place. She hurries across the open area, desperate to reach the long line of cars. She ducks down between two of them and pauses, listening closely. She’s sure she heard something, but now it’s quiet. She stares at the front door, registering the shadows of a few students inside, walking by.

Classes are about to begin, she doesn’t have much time left. There’s no need for her to go to her locker, she abandoned that a long time ago. Everything she needs is in her backpack anyway, since it gives her the opportunity to spend a minimal amount of time among her fellow students inside the school.

She watches the clock on the wall, knowing exactly how many minutes she needs to get from the parking lot to the classroom just before the teacher closes the door. She’ll be the last one in, sneaking inside and taking her place close to the door. She’ll also be the first one out; she’s fast.

Four minutes left.

Three. She counts to 30, and then it’s time to run.

Halfway to the doors something - someone - comes flying from the right and knocks her to the ground. She has her backpack slung over her left shoulder, and even though it softens most of the impact, she also feels the edge of a book boring into her side. Before she’s registered what - who - has hit her, she’s hauled off the ground and into the woods behind the school. Her feet are dragged against the hard surface, and she notices she’s lost a shoe somewhere along the way. The school is disappearing behind the tree line, and she suddenly finds herself dumped on the cold, moist forest floor.

“Your clothes smell like shit, you know that?”

She closes her eyes. The light voice is familiar, as is the demeaning tone. She can smell her, a heavy, flowery perfume permeating and overtaking the earthy scent of the forest. A small stream is floating by, creating a purling background to the girls voice.

“We need to get you out of them.”

The voice is still light, feigning positivity and pretending to be friendly. Small but rough hands rip the clothes off her body and she hears the sound of them being thrown in the water. She keeps her eyes closed, trying to focus on the sounds of birds singing, the rustling of leafs and the breeze through her hair.

“There you go. Nice and clean. You should thank me, you know, for being such a kind-hearted and selfless person. I even help you clean your clothes.”

The voice quiets, and she hears the sound of the girl’s foot impatiently tapping the ground.

“Well?”

She opens her mouth and whispers.

“Thank you.”