Tag: brainwashing
Reader’s Block
Scientific Consensus
Printed collection out now! Straight from the Pit of Hell: a Blinky and Sal Collection is available on Amazon.
Little Left-Handed Rebel
a young girl in school…
I donât like school anymore.
I used to.
But not anymore.
Sister Margaret says Iâm a trouble-making nonconformist. My mom says Iâm just left-handed. Sister Margaret swats my hand whenever she catches me switching my pencil back to my left hand. I draw pictures of Sister Margaret getting shot out of a canon. Then I draw Xâs on her eyes, but then I get creative and make them into swastikas.
I honestly donât mean to be a troublemaker. Maybe itâs just that my pencil wants to be in my left hand instead of my right. Sister Margaret can stuff it! I think God made me this way for a reason. I canât just change because Sister Margaret says so. But her ruler is a little more convincing. If Iâm gonna write with my right hand then God Himself is gonna have to tell me.
I use a red crayon to portray the blood coming out of Sister Margaretâs head wounds.
Sister Margaret says I had better shape up. She says Iâm the only one in the class who writes with my left hand. She says she doesnât like to look up and see all of the other good little children writing in perfect unison with their rights only to have her lovely ballet of scratching right pencils disrupted by the chaotic scribblings of a rebellious spirit. She says.
She also isnât fond of my doodles.
Maybe I like being different. Maybe itâs good that we donât all do the same thingâŠbut I would feel a little more comfortable if at least one other kid would write with their left. I look around the room. Maria, Susie, Amy, Kiersten, Christin, Khristin, Christina, the other Amy, Alicia, MayukoâŠtheyâre all writing with their right hands. I know theyâre not looking at me now. They always turn and look when Sister Margaret scolds me.
Theyâre just looking at their papers and writing. They canât see me.
They donât care.
But what if they do notice my lefty writing? What if they donât like it? What if they wouldnât be my friend? Up until now no one has said anything. How much longer will it last? High school? College? Oh no!—what comes after college?!
âCalm down. Itâs no big deal. You wonât lose friends over a silly thing like this.â
Thanks, Mortimer, my imaginary friendâŠwho is also a walrus. Youâre right. Itâs no big dealâŠbut then, if it really is no big dealâŠ
…..
I see now the error of my ways. Everything is fine and as it should be. I writeâŠright. Nobody swats my hand with a ruler. Nobody judges me. And, according to Sister Maragaret, Baby Jesus doesnât weep over my stenographic ineptitude anymore. Everything is normal. Nobody notices.
Sister Margaret doesnât scold me anymore. Sister Margaret doesnât even look at me anymore.
Sister Margaretâs perfect right-handed writing ballet is all in order.
I blend in.
I am normal.
Nobody can see me.
Beep beep boop beep.
J. Burrello


