Board Thread:General Discussion/@comment-33154547-20150126113820/@comment-24750690-20150515052045

1hs444 wrote: 0.o I just turned 5, days prior to attending kindergarten. ^This. I was five when I started.

Also, Kindergarten was the weirdest experience for me. I went to a little private school that operated inside a church, but the church only gave the school three rooms to work with. All the Kindergarteners and First grade were in the same classroom. Second and Third grade were in the same class, as were Fourth and Fifth.

Dyfunctional? Heck yes.

I remember one time I was playing outside during recess. (for some reason our school gave all the students 3 recesses so get rekt. They also only worked Kindergarteners on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays so get double rekt. In retrospect the school really wasn't all that bad xD) Anyway, I was outside for recess on this Friday. The drill is that you'd play for like, five minutes, it seemed like, before the resident teacher blew their whistle and all students were required to fill into nice, orderly rows with other students in their class. (And if you've ever worked with this many kids of this age group - you'd understand why teachers with these jobs usually had the suicide hotline on speedial)

Once in formation, you'd march into the church and go back to your classroom, where listened to the teacher teach the other class until it was time for another five minute break. The system was so jacked up that some of the nicest kids were getting in trouble all the time for wanting just a bit more time on the playground.

Apparently, I was one of those kids.

I SWEAR I didn't hear the teacher blow his whistle. I swear I thought I had more time. I swear I thought all the kids lining up in ways that looked exactly like they were leaving were just crazy. After all, if I didn't hear the whistle, it didn't blow. Right?

Like I said, I enjoying my turn on the swing (finally) while all the kids lined up. I wasn't hiding or anything. If anyone had bothered to tell me what was going on, I probably would have lined up as well. But I sat there, swinging in my swing and watching all the other students and the teacher dissapear inside the church.

It...it took longer than it should have before things registered as ''problematic. ''(I was 5. Okay??)

Slow panic crawled into my throat. They weren't...they didn't...I hadn't...I got off my swing and scrambled (unsupervised, thank you very much) through the parking lot to the church's front door. ''They had! ''They'd all returned to their classes without me! I was out on the playground by myself!

I'm still kicking myself that I wasn't the sort of kid to take advantage of this situation. After all, the Kindergarten/First grade teacher was the horrifying "Mrs. Ruth." Or was it "Robinson?" "Rupert?" "Rutherford?" Some intimidating name beggining with the letter "R" that struck as much fear into my heart as she did. I was already a pretty bad student. I didn't want to get in trouble for this as well. I grabbed the handle-

-Locked.

If I were any older, I would have been saying some very not-nice things. There was no way into the school. This was bad. Very bad. Much worse than sneaking back into class. I sat there, wide eyed in front of the door. I wasn't crying yet - but I was panicked as hell. I yelled with my little voice and pounded the glass with my little fists. Someone had to notice an unacompanied five year-old banging on the glass and let him in...or at least call Social Services. (The sight of any sympathetic adult would have been a relief at this point.)

Someone rounded the corner. For the life of me, I can't remember his name, maybe something generic like "Tyler" but he was 6 years old and in first grade - therefore technically in my class. He was especially memorable because he was also prone to getting himself in the same trouble I was currently in, staying late after recess. From what I gathered, he was nice enough, but a little bit of a trouble maker.

He saw me and came to the door with a smile. "There you are! Mrs. Ruth (Robinson, Rutherford, Rossarch?) had us all looking for you!"

Okay, that should have thrown up a red flag immediately. The school wasn't well staffed (3 teachers teaching 6 grades) but any teacher would be insane to let unacompanied students wander the halls in search of another unacomponied student. In retrospect, he might have been lying to my face to cover him intentionally ditching, which makes my situation all the more tragic, as events may have turned much more in my favor had he never showed up.

He opened the door and took a half-step out. "Well. You ditching school?"

"N...no." I said back, sheepishly. I was always pretty sheepish, especially in situations like this.

He took another step out, "Oh really? What are you doing out here?"

"I...didn't hear the whistle blow."

"You okay?"

"Just a little nervous."

He smiled again and walked right up to me, "Why?"

"Our teacher will kill me."

He laughed, "Oh come on! You'll be fine. She won't be mad at you!"

A burden slowly lifted from my shoulders, "Really??"

He put a hand on my shoulder, "She sent us out here to find you and bring you back. She's not angry. Now, want to come back inside?"

I smiled, "Yes."

He turned and grabbed the handle. My heart jumped into my throat.

We were both outside - and he'd let go of the door.

"Wha..what?" He was bewildered.

"The door's locked."

"It is!?"

"...Yeah. That's why I wasnt-"

"You could've said something!! Oh man, Mrs. Rutherfordinterror is gonna kill us!"

The weight on my shoulders fell back like a ton of bricks.

I don't remember exactly how we got back into the church. I think we attracted the attention of some secretary who proceeded to ask us some of the dumbest questions before she'd let us in. ("Are you students of this school?" "No, ma'am. We're just two kids in the exact age group you teach here outside the main entrance to this place of teaching whose names, coincidentally, are in the records this school has on it's students. Idek why we'd be here, of all places.") She may have worked with the church and not the school though, now that I think about it. The two had less than an amicable relationship.

We got back to our class where Mrs. Rubberrape gave us both a rather stern talking to. In front of the class(es), of course. Perhaps her intimidation didn't come from the fact she was scary. She was stern, unyeilding. She had an iron in her large, middle aged figure that came from years of putting up with little kids and all their shit. Perhaps that was exactly why I'd go out of my way to impress her, or really, to impress anyone. Because I wanted to have that iron turn to butter when it was fixed on me. Lord knows I wouldn't pass Kindergarten any other way.

However, my stunt of getting locked out probably didn't help our relations. She said she was dissapointed, which was a word that always crushed me more than angry. She gave "Tyler" a similar shpiel, and our punishment was the same. On the following Monday, neither of us would partake in recess. I went home and cried, the entire affair rattling around in my 5 year old skull like an unending, deafening, screaming noise maker.

Monday came. "Tyler" got up and told Mrs. RexusTiberiusAugustus that this was his last day at the school. He'd probably told his mother that he'd gotten locked out at school, conveniently not mentioning the possibility that he, unlike me, may have been intentionally breaking rules before he was locked out. Clever bastard. Hilariously, even though my punishment was to abstain from recess for that Monday - no one enforced it. I got just as much recess as everyone else. The teachers turned a blind eye to me, and any time another kid brought up my punishment around a teacher - I immediately told him to "Ssshh!" rather forcefully.

So like I said. Traumatic, but in the end, not really that bad. Even Mrs. Robertasaurus rex didn't stick with me that much. I guess, for all it's weirdness, my Kindergarten was okay.

But Prom?? Oh that was irredeemably weird!