That question! The one where someone asks you, “Where do you get your ideas?”
My answer? Very often they pop unexpectedly into my head: an imagined conversation where the topic takes a darker direction than was intended.
“He went away for the weekend.” Oh! Really! Where did he go, who with, did he come back?
“She was so angry she packed his clothes and threw them out of the window.” Really? What did he do, did he leave, did he retaliate?
Anywhere and everywhere my brain goes on holiday imagining the dire consequences of ordinary, everyday acts. Even switching emphasis in a sentence can change the way your imagination can fire up. “She liked it.” Alternatively, “SHE liked it” or “She LIKED it, or She liked IT.” Go on. Could you give it a go? You’ll be surprised how dark you can be. Be as dark as you like.
Even though I gave up teaching a long time ago, one of the lessons I taught haunts me. It sits in the back of my mind, and I often go to sleep thinking about it.
We were looking at keeping students safe, make them more aware of the emotional traps they could encounter. It seemed a very innocent and straightforward piece when I first looked at it. I had a video the school nurse gave me and an outline of where I should lead the class in the discussion.
The video followed the story of a young 14-year-old girl, Sarah. As young people often are, she was at odds with her parents, and although she had a group of friends at school, she often felt alone and unloved.
One day she was walking home from school, and an older boy wolf whistled her on the street. She was both amazed he noticed her but flattered too. The next day he was waiting again. He began to be there each night as she walked home and he would stop her and chat. The other girls noticed and teased her about her new “boyfriend.” She started to feel embarrassed at their teasing and began to meet the boy out of their sight.
She felt warm and happy when she was with him. He was polite and complimentary and loving. She was falling in love. The relationship became more serious when she slept with him. Her parents were aware that she was arriving home later than expected but when questioned she avoided answering, saying she was visiting friends so they could do homework.
As time went on, her friends became suspicious and begged her to break it off. They followed her down the street calling out to the boy to leave her alone. In response, the boy encouraged Sarah to ignore them.
“They’re jealous. People wouldn’t say that if they were real friends.” He jeered at them and wrapped her in a tight, loving embrace. Sarah felt torn, but she accepted what he was saying, and soon she had no friends.
“Will you come to the disco, this weekend?”
“My parents won’t let me.”
“Your parents don’t care, why do you bother with them? I have this flat. You can move in with me. It’ll be a blast, just you and me.”
It didn’t take long before she agreed. She packed her bags and slunk out of the house, not telling her parents where she was going. Sarah was not sure but the kiss and hug she was given put her mind at rest, and she settled into her boyfriend’s flat like a cat licking cream.
Life moved smoothly. No school. Tick. No friends. Tick. No parents. Tick. Loving boyfriend buying presents and treating her like a princess. Tick, tick.
Until:
One night he asked her to go with him to meet a friend. A special friend that he owed money. The night was a success. “He is really into you,” said the boyfriend, his arm tightening around Sarah’s shoulders. Sarah thought the special friend was ultra-creepy.
A few nights later she met the creepy friend again at their flat. She closed her eyes and cried as he raped her. She was helping to pay the debt owed by her boyfriend! Isolated from all help or real affection she was allowing an act she hated to keep the only love she had in her world. It did not end there. She was loaned out to other men with the boyfriend whispering, “Just this one. He will be the last.” It wasn’t. He became less loving and more demanding. More than one man each night soon followed. Sarah felt she had to allow them to do as they wished: she had no-one to turn to for support, but the boyfriend.
I hope I delivered this lesson well and the students left my classroom with something to think about. The older I get, the more I see how easy it is for a predatory man or woman, to isolate and take advantage of, younger, less worldly girls and boys.
Such a sad story! Even though it was merely to provoke discussion. I hope at least one child in that class was saved from harm by what we talked about that day.
Some of the above could give you an idea for a story. Why not try writing it now?
Jean Smith Author 