[Drugs, 929 words, Genre: Drug Fiction]

* Image courtesy of Dirk de Bruyn

The bell called recess in the schoolyard, it was time for the teachers to have a break from their teaching, it was time for the students to take a break from their learning. The first three hours of the day had been filled by mathematics and arithmetic. All of the students were holding their heads in anticipation of that first break of the day. The first break when they would finally be able to grab a bite to eat. Most of the children’s households were busy in the morning. The rush of both mother and father having to prepare for their work days so that each household could make end’s meet. End’s meet? That’s a funny phrase, isn’t it? Probably one of those phrases that have just become so common place in language that we don’t stop to really think about it anymore. That’s what the parents were doing. They had little time to think about how their children were being raised.

The education system was kind of like a wrestling arena for most children. They would all be shoved into the schoolyard and the parents would all cross their fingers and hope for the best. And that’s all that one really could do under the circumstances.

As the children made their way out and into the schoolyard at the calling of the recess bell, they all went together in their little groups. Their little groups that identified them to the rest of the world that they belonged to a particular patronage or way of life. Already the laws of social cohesion were working wonders on the mentality of the young. There were those that could adapt to the social classes of that which they belonged to and then there were those others. Those others who would split away from the groups to form groups of their own. They would all entangle themselves in some way or form. Some natural order was at work within the interweaving of which child got along with which child. Who was more popular than the last child? And for what reason were they more popular? None of it really mattered in the long run, those children would reproduce more children and slowly, yet surely, things would occur where humanity would rear its ugly head and shout obscenities into the sunset. The sunset, the sunset, oh yes, the sunset. Those different scales of pink and orange, blue and yellow, always giving off a frightful hue of different colours that would make way for a new dawn and a new day.

And as all those schoolchildren walked throughout the schoolyard, all of the teachers in the school would break for their morning tea. They would all sit down and have a coffee. Gone were the days when the faculty lounge would be clouded with smoke from the impound of stress that would be marked as lines along the teachers’ faces.

One child walked along the outskirts of the school. Where the fenced in area would separate those school children from the rest of the world. For surely, the rest of the world was condemned to suffrage beyond the understanding of school aged children.

As that child walked, he kept his eyes glued to the ground. He had found many things with his eyes glued to the ground like this. Oh, the wonders! The wonders of the schoolyard, what a place it would become when the gates were closed, when the children left, when the teacher’s last car left the vicinity. There would be empty bottles of spirits left by some teens who had just then discovered the intricacies and intimacies of escapism through intoxication. And every so often, just every so often… There it would be. Beneath the dirt and hidden away. A used syringe, a needle… Previously filled with some substance or another. Just lying there in the schoolyard.

And this child, this one child who did not seem to fit in with the others looked at the instrument. He was familiar with what it was by this age. It was an instrument of nurses and doctors. Injections and vaccinations. He picked it up, and his mind was full of wonder. Wonder and awe. What sort of nurse or doctor came to the school grounds to leave their little instruments lying around?

He took the syringe to show one of the teachers in the faculty lounge. The faculty lounge almost went hysterical at what the child had found. He was full of questions and wonder. To which the teachers never answered his questions, they simply took the syringe from his possession and disposed of it properly.

Later that day his parents would be informed of the incident that had occurred. The parents would be outraged and it would be left to them to explain to the child what the syringe was for. With no reasonable explanation given to the child, the child was given a one word answer, “Drugs!” And that was all. That was it.

And as the child progressed through the school system he would be given an insurmountable amount of evidence, to show the causes of pain to humanity and humanity’s need to escape reality and ease their own pains. Every little fact that built up in the minds of men and women as they were raised by the state, gave further proof to the great conglomerate of human suffering and misery. Every point of history, every teaching and every lesson just seemed like another answer for why people did the things they did to escape from the things that occurred.


Arie de Bruyn Born in Sandringham, Melbourne, Victoria (Australia) on the 15th January 1987. Son of Alison and Dirk de Bruyn. Youngest sibling to Kees and Abram de Bruyn. Diagnosed with schizophrenia at the age of 22. Holds a bachelor degree from Deakin University in Arts (Media & Communication). Attended several high schools. Has lived and worked internationally in New Delhi, India; and Thailand. Currently resides in Geelong, Victoria, Australia. Written several books and self-published them (Check out products and downloads page). Works jobs to earn himself a livable wage. contact: firstofkin@hotmail.com twitter: @firstofkin

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