Howling Winds, Fading Stars (Shorter Version)

I arrived at my new school today. I was physically hours away from home, yet vivid memories rotated like slides through my mind. They reminded me that mentally I was still trapped there. I’m asking myself questions but finding no answers. In a way it’s good to get out of it. Out of that alien environment. Every sound, every object, every smell brought with it unsettling recollections. I’m out of the world that brought me so much pain, yet my heart aches for the security and comfort that only familiar surroundings and people can bring. The daunting prospects of the next few weeks offered neither of these respites, the imminent school year was weighing heavily on my already overheated mind. 1

I was shown my new living quarters, room no. 4. As I made myself comfortable I was deafened by all the noise. My room in Dubbo used to be my fortitude, a fortress that encompassed me with deathly yet peaceful silence. I can’t take it –  I need some fresh air. I need to run. I need to free my mind!2

There are two things in the world which I couldn’t live without, running and solitude. When I run the fresh air in my lungs allows me to fathom complexities with ease. There are no distractions in the form of trivial and loud people. Solitude is something I’ve become accustomed to recently, I guess you could say I have learnt to enjoy my own company since I lost Steph. I miss my younger brother. We were really close. But since our split I’ve lost the urge to become attached to anyone. I’m scared of the same thing happening to me again. Since I lost Steph I’ve taught myself to believe that the only safe friend, the only one you can trust, is yourself. At least that way you have nothing to lose. 3

I used to go for runs a lot in Dubbo. Steph and I would race down to the beach and frolic in the sand. During those last few weeks without him though I would trudge down as the sun was setting. I’d lie on the beach and close my eyes and listen to the reassuring waves. At the time it was the only thing I could think of in my whole life which was consistent, a persistent beat. My life was full of variables. I felt so unbalanced, as if I was about to fall and never hit the ground. I knew one thing though, the waves would forever be pounding on the sand. Unfortunately I realised my heart was no different, but sometimes I wished it would stop beating. Life goes on and that is the unfortunate but inevitable crisis called reality. 4

As I ran through the daunting school grounds dodging the rows of columns, through the huge beige buildings, I wished I was back lying on that familiar spot on the beach, listening to the comforting waves. No luck, here I was running in fear of my own existence, avoiding anyone who came near me, hiding from human contact.5

My first day of school was confusing. So many people, so much disorder. I couldn’t take it! I tried to participate, to fit in, but I just couldn’t. It was as if the scar of memories resounding throughout my body was screaming, glowing like a lighthouse, warning ships from coming near. I was a rugged cliff, dangerous, unwanted and in the way. I felt unwelcome, this definitely wasn’t the scene for me, particularly in my wrecked state. 6

A few days later it was announced that sport trials for winter sport teams would commence on Friday. After much contemplation I decided I would try out for the rugby team. As much as I feared joining a team with my peers, allowing them to scrutinize my every action, I knew that to break the chains of isolation I had to open up and conform. 7

The rugby trials were a failure. The rugby coach denied me the short pleasure I feel on the sporting field, as I wasn’t chosen for the team. I knew of course he hadn’t realised my potential. While I was losing my optimism for life, I never lost my confidence in myself, and the flicker of hope in the distance remained. 8

Three people didn’t make the team for that first week. One of them looked really devastated. I recognized him from English class, his name was Craig. The other a larger black fellow still had a smile on his face. I had never seen him before but from that moment I respected him. I was too scared to introduce myself, as the three of us trudged back to the change rooms. As we entered Craig lost it, “That is so unfair! Can’t they see I’m the best fly-half?”9

“Relax. I’m sure you will make the team next week.”10

I listened as the African kid assured Craig he was a good rugby player and that this wasn’t the end of his probably illustrious career. Craig slowly cooled down but left in a hurry. As Craig left the other dropout mumbled, “Some people just take life too seriously!”11

I looked at him in awe I wanted to respond but I didn’t know what to say. He must have noticed my uncertainty and introduced himself as Manyana.12

“Hello, I’m Anemos”13

“Pleased to meet you, Anemos – that’s an interesting name!”14

“It means ‘Like the Wind’ in ancient Greek. My parents decided they liked the name. I’ve grown fond of it myself.”15

“That’s really cool! My name means “tomorrow”. My parents named me after one of my tribes rituals where a boy is presented to his future. He becomes an adult and is given hope, optimism and ambition.”16

“I admire you Manyana, its wonderful how you can show Craig so much compassion and give him hope, but why don't you seem to have any sympathy for yourself?”17

“Can’t you see? I don't fit in, I’m overweight I’m part of a minority in that I’m African and no one seems to care.”18

“How come you still smile then? I feel the same way about myself, I feel excluded but I don't find it enjoyable.”19

“Neither do I Anemos, but you have to realise that if you don't get used to the inevitable then your life will never be fun. I don't enjoy being alone all the time but I try my best to.”20

“But it’s not inevitable! We shouldn’t be excluded!”21

Our conversation went on for a while and from that day on we became quite close. While I had erected a barrier from other human relationships, I felt this was different, however hard it was to believe, Manyana seemed similar to me. We decided that we would not give up, and persist in our efforts to make the rugby team.22

Manyana has started me thinking about how I can overcome my self-pity. I think the reason I feel so trapped and isolated is because I haven’t quite accepted what happened during those last few weeks of my existence. I want to go back to when I felt secure when I felt loved but I know I can’t. But it’s so hard allowing those memories to fade away, they seem permanently forged in my mind. All I can remember from that fateful night are the noises and that vivid image. My familiar room walls enclosed me as I lay staring through the open window at the fading stars. A scream cut the perfect silence and with it went my illusionary happiness. My parents were fighting. Steph seemed to be the instigator of their argument and I could hear him in the background trying to calm things down. The shouting continued and I just lost interest, until that deafening screech from my mother accompanied the breaking of glass. I was frozen in my bed, I remained like that as the sirens approached our house. I was trying to block out reality; it was just a dream, just a dream! Every morning since that day I have woken up and said it was just a dream. My brother Steph was fine, he wasn’t, unconscious,  frozen in time in a hospital bed. I imagine that my mother and father hadn’t broken up and that they still loved me. Unfortunately now I’m stuck in this boarding house – I have nowhere to hide from those terrible events. I can’t wake up in the morning and convince myself I’m part of a loving family because I’m living in a place which is a result of my family’s fracture. I can’t hide. Every night I look up at the sky and see the fading stars, the last image of my prior life.23

The weeks at boarding school slowly passed. Manyana and I continued to try make the rugby team but it seemed our inability to fit in cost us the respect we deserved. I was beginning to lose hope in making the team so I started to focus on the upcoming athletics season. The thought of running in front of my ‘peers’ excited me. It is hard to express the sensation you feel when you run fast but it’s one of an overwhelming sense of power. I imagine its much like flying. The control and freedom you feel is unbelievable and is heightened by my depressed and isolated state. As I attempted to receive some merit for my athletic abilities it seems my rugby coach found a new interest in me. I was chosen in the rugby team on the wing and it seemed to cause a slight uproar in the team. It appeared I was too different to be part of the team, too “uncool”. I was convinced though that I could prove to them I was as much human, and therefore rightly allowed on the team, as they were. 24

The game was on a Saturday which I will forever vividly remember. A large portion of the school population had formed a crowd for this game which happened to be the final fixture of the season. Being crunch time in the season I could feel the awe of expectation. It was my chance to prove those around me wrong. Wrong for doubting me and excluding me. 25

I could go into a detailed analysis of the match, but there was only one moment that is now engraved in my memory, along side that resounding shriek. That Saturday was the day I flew in front of a crowd. I proved to the world, and myself, that hope remains. As the wind picked up I felt a new sense of freedom, one I had never experienced in my life. I lost consciousness of reality and felt the ball in my hands as I sprinted to the try line. I ran like the wind, unstoppable, free from the chains of isolation. That try completed a successful match for my teammates and I. For the first time in this new world I found myself smiling. I had conquered my doubts and my doubters. As the team displayed their trophy I remained on my own, enjoying the moment where I felt a part, maybe even accepted. 26

“See what optimism can do? Never lose faith!”27

“Manyana!! All I can say is … thank you!” 28

Later that night, as the game euphoria died down, I went outside to lie on the playing fields. I realised I had remembered what that innocent feeling was like when I was young, blissfully oblivious. Sport gives you that instantaneous feeling of immortality. Like ecstasy will eternally remain with you. Unfortunately when I was innocent I was ignorant of the truth, you cant hide from your problems. I still feel like an outsider and Steph is still in a coma. But I continue to hold one thing dear to me – hope. I still hope and pray that Steph will return to me, and I still hope and pray that I will be accepted for who I am – a mission which I believe is underway right now in my soul. Today I sign a contract to endeavor for that next step of braking the chain of isolation. Tomorrow the ritual will begin, my own Manyana will occur. Hope, optimism and aspirations will be mine. And as I stared up at the sky, I saw a field of light and dreams, the stars weren’t fading, but glowing brighter than ever.29