The girl who ate the earth, I knew in the past.
is a story of the past. It was at primary school with the nuns and their long black robes that raised dust. When you're young and in groups, we like to give us nicknames. It's easier for us to store in a small box, below. There is the greedy who like Alcestis, will never give you a piece of his taste, the brazen, the tune that is fast because it recognizes simpers, pragmatics. Adults like us to stick labels. Sister C. told me I was the dreamer. My notebooks were always filled small drawings. But at least she added, I did not have a bird brain. I was happy as she says, because she was stingy with compliments. And then there's always the child alone. It is a constant in all primary schools, you will find this little man, this tiny woman, who wanders alone and without friends. And me, I'm having the head in the clouds, I always noticed, these children. Even when they were as discreet as possible, even if in the end, there were many children to be alone.
me, I did not need many friends. When I returned, there was my brother. Barely a year gap and so we are never alone. And when he did not play, I called my neighbor. And when she did not want to play, I ran with the dog. And when the dog was tired, I learned to play alone. Maybe I learned it earlier than the rest. Someone told me that the dreadful Karl had done during the recess, listened politely and my spirit soared. I was telling stories. I remember a dream, is stronger than all the others I've forgotten where I suddenly grew wings and I flew from the court, and the children asked where I went, and I do them say anything, I flew, far away. I also thought the last toy that I have. And tell me stories while I was talking about, unfortunately, is still the case, with 20 more years. And if that was not the inspiring story of Karl stretching at full length in the mud, it was not very interesting. Not really. So when I played ball, I was very talented (without any pride, it was the only game where I congratulated myself on my address), I always watched the lonely child, seated while the others played.
One of them was blonde with big blue eyes, translucent, so great for her age ... This girl had the plague. Touch, brushing was consorting with the Devil. 'They are real children, they are not friends with dirty children, the poor fools. They said she had strange quirks. They said so many things.
For some, I felt a little compassion. I was that kind of girl totally scared because another wept when his mother abandoned him at school. I will never forget this little boy with glasses who s'aggrippa the gate, shouting his despair. I remember laughing a lot. Others were silent. I was dumb, too, and I was content to watch. Today, I tell myself that I could, I'd perhaps go to the by the shoulder. I did not. I turned and I left. He remained alone. But sometimes, I invite them to come and play. But here, no compassion. I knew abandonment. I felt sometimes with a mission. The others, they do not look at you, ignore you, you're not good enough for them, or I do not know what else, but I see you, I'll watch and even touch your arm, and talk to you . And I know I hated you give me back the favor.
And then there are others.
But the little girl, sometimes she smiled. I heard him laugh the day I put my fist in the face Something Sandra, the daughter of the butcher, the day of the fair. A Minx without much interest. Punishment and towards the convent. I heard Sister C. tell Mrs. J. and my mother was a good lesson for the Minx, though the violence was to ban. Mom said I had inherited from his bizarre behavior. It was disturbing. A blessed day, another day in the sun, I stop to see the pick of the earth. This handful of earth, she brings to her mouth. Maybe at home, she did not eat his fill, or else, she tried an experiment, plunging his hands into the earth, with unfeigned joy. A friend who watched the scene with me let out a " but it is disgusting! .
Well, no. The little blonde girl with hands full of earth at that moment, it was sublime. I witnessed a great vision, worthy of the horrors that we were being told in the Bible Saturday morning. If I did not eat for the land, squatting and looking serious, I would never have approached.'s a witch! "whispered a voice behind. The witches, we knew it, in the corner. We never spoke of what made our lives outside of school. I'm still wondering where she lived, how it was when she returned home. she ate the earth and worms in a porcelain plate? She eats the earth or sweets, it was the same, even if eating worms would have adorned a halo inhuman that I liked. And I sailed through my friends who made perfect tripped to those who were not, and my friends with imperfect eyes full of dreams and hidden fear. Sometimes his clothes were stained. It was easy to understand, seeing his mother, that it did not care to give him clean clothes. One day cramponée to the gate at the exit, I threw a fit mother for that look black, blacker than I could give. Polite child was my only weapon against this woman too much makeup. Me, I had a loving mother and perhaps a bit too tongue - but it was better than a mom like that - and I was surprised at night, because I did not know that it offends me , saying to my mom that it was strange that other children do not have one, moms. And my mother, she just nodded, looking sad. And I know why now. His childhood dream a little crazy, she was to adopt all the miseries of this earth. She failed to succeed.
And the last day, my friend went diaphanous. She went elsewhere. Where I've never su. She offered me one night before she goes away, a small square of fabric, she had cut out a dress or a wide ribbon, scalloped scissors.
was a free gift, miserable, wonderful. She came out, his schoolbag on his shoulders too, with a final wave of his hand, and a tiny smile. The little pink handkerchief
EARTHSCIENCESSECTOR treasures in the box, one that is before my eyes. On this piece of cloth, a dust, one regret: that of having forgotten the name of the little blonde girl.
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