Reading

“Lochie, your turn”.

Upon hearing those words, a heavy stone formed in my stomach, weighing me down further as each moment passed.  Everything is going in slow motion.  I imagined the stone becoming so heavy that it would force me down through the floor and into the earth with only my head poking up.   I braced my legs and hoped that it would happen. 

The clock on the wall was shouting down at me, “THREE MINUTES TO GO”, teasing me with each slight movement of the second hand.  I blinked and stared at it.  It seemed to have moved backwards.  How was that possible?  As I watched that hand, it seemed to be that the movements were in tune with the pounding in my head as the blood rushed through my brain, searching for the area which held the knowledge I needed.  Would it find it this time?  It doesn’t usually.  Stupid brain lets me down all the time.

My stomach now had butterflies fluttering around the stone.  I could picture them clearly flying around, pausing to land on the stone.  Surprisingly those little butterflies made the stone even heavier.  Who would have thought that?  They look so light?   I imagined again being swallowed up by the ground below me.  

Original Artwork Opal Vagelatos 2012

“Lochie!”

I glared at the clock are realised that all the imagining in the world wasn’t going to make this go away.  I swallowed hard, wiped my sweaty hands on my pants, scratched my head and looked down at the page. 

It was worse than normal.  All I could see was black lines, moving like waves lapping onto the shore, and the white rivers running through them.  The harder I looked, the more everything moved.  Waves and rivers, moving, getting bigger, smaller, moving moving.  I felt sick. 

“Can I go to the toilet”?  I asked.

“Lochie there are two minutes before the bell.   Just do your reading and then you can go”, replied the teacher getting annoyed.

I look back down at the page.  The black wavy lines were faint and still moving.  I could feel the acid raising in my stomach and sitting in my throat.  Burning.   A very unpleasant sensation.  I wiped my hands on my pants again and picked up the book.  I took a last glance at the ground.  It didn’t look like I was going to be swallowed up in time.  My mind went briefly to thoughts I have had before.  Bad thoughts, about V-line trains and never having to go to school again.

Squinting, I put the book close to my face.  “Sir, I haven’t got my glasses, I can’t see it”.

“Lochie, you don’t wear glasses”, he said exasperated.

“No wonder I can’t see it then!”, I said.  There were a few giggles from my classmates.  I put on my charming smile and looked around the class. The smart girls were rolling their eyes but most of the kids looked amused.

Ding……..ding……..ding…….ding 

Saved by the bell.  I grabbed my bag and ran.  I was out the door before the teacher could say “please stack your chairs”.  I knew he would catch up with me the next day but for now, I was out of there!  I could breathe.  My head no longer pounded.  The stone in my stomach had reduced, but was still there as a reminder that it was only a temporary reprieve and that I will still have to face up to the teacher tomorrow.  Maybe not.  Perhaps I’ll never go back to school again. 

These few paragraphs were put together with my son Lochie who is dyslexic.  It shows the absolute fear and pressure that schools put onto kids with a learning disability.  I certainly hope that teachers read this and get a bit of an insight into what goes on in the head of some of these kids. 

It is also the introduction to a book that Lochie and I are putting together to raise awareness of dyslexia. The book will tell stories of what Lochie, and other kids like him have been through.  Lochie is a survivor.