Chasey

The bell rang and we all piled out the door, splitting into smaller groups as we shuffled down the corridor.  In the breezeway someone shouted ‘tiggy on the oval’ and we all started running.

The oval was soggy under foot after the rain over night.  Marty was the last to arrive, bolting across the oval and slowing, panting as he realised he’d be ‘it’.

We tore around chasing each other, taking turns to be ‘it’, with the vigor and exuberance of puppies excited by a new toy.

I noticed that Melissa was sitting under a tree near the oval as we played.  She seemed in a world of her own, as she always did.  Melissa was weird, and everybody knew she liked to pull the wings off butterflies.

After running around for a while the pace of our game started to slow.  Jane, who was ‘it’ was tiring.  Her efforts to tag the next person were flagging, the frustration with her faster friends starting to show.

It was James who said ‘let’s chase Melissa’. As he said it I watched Melissa leap up from where she had been sitting and run away from the oval.  10 filthy kids chased after her, yelling as they ran.

Amongst the school buildings she ducked out of sight momentarily and everyone paused, puffing and eyes darting for a sign of the quarry.

Between two buildings Melissa flashed past and we all took off again, pursuing her relentlessly.

This was a game we never tired of.  Melissa was strange.  She didn’t play with the rest of us.  There was the butterfly thing and her clothes never seemed to quite fit properly.  Melissa never looked at you when she spoke and she had no friends.  Kids often chased her and teased her, although I’d never actually caught her.  I generally tried to avoid her.

This day Melissa seemed to have got away.  We headed back to the oval.  I stopped at the girls toilet on the way back.  Emerging from the bathroom I rounded the corner of the gym and came across Melissa sitting on the ground against the wall.

I laughed.  ‘Well here you are.’  If felt my lip curl as I walked towards her.  If I’m honest, I don’t know what I’d planned to do.  I’d probably have just yelled out that I’d found her and chased as she ran off before my friends caught up with us and our game started again.

But as I walked towards her, laughing, she turned, lowered her head, raised her hands with her palms facing me and begged ‘Please don’t hurt me.  Please don’t hurt me’.  She just stayed in that position looking down.

There are moments in your life when you realise how other people see you.  Times like this can give you a sense of exhilaration and validation.  This was not one of those moments for me.  The realisation that Melissa was scared of me hit me like a kick below the belly.  Suddenly I understood that Melissa did not see me for the caring, thoughtful little girl I really was.  By joining with the group who chased and tormented her I had effectively put on the garb of the bully.  That was not how I wanted her to see me.  It was not how I wanted anyone to see me.

I took her hands, pulled her to her feet.  As she raised her head I met her wary expression and said ‘I’ll never hurt you, Melissa. I’m not like that. And I’ll never chase you again.’  I let go her hands, turned and walked away.  I headed back to the oval, only to be tagged ‘it’ as I got there.  Until the bell rang a few minutes later I chased my friends around the oval.