Sometimes when I look back and think on my life as a pre-adolescent. Life was good, nothing to stress about. (well, other my homework. And that used to give me headaches on so many levels.)
I was stubborn, rebellious, loved the members of my family (when they weren't getting in my way) and had average grades in school, conflicted, loved challenges even if they included fighting. My interests were more in gymnastics and whenever I found an interesting book to keep my plotting mind occupied, I was happy. Otherwise, I'd head out and play with the boys and girls in the estate where we lived back then which is not something you get to see these days.
Coming from a family of five children, I definitely had to wedge myself in there to find a place just for myself.
I wasn't the kind to take insults either. One time, a boy in primary school insulted a girl I knew. The girl shrunk back, but I jumped on my feet and confronted him. My mouth was always faster than my mind which always landed my in trouble. The boy didn't back down either, and called for a challenge. A fight, sort of a duel of which I readily agreed with so much enthusiasm. How dare he insult the girl species! The 'duel' was set to be the next day on Friday in a small field close to where I lived.
Later, I wondered what was wrong with me. Trouble didn't follow me, I always seem to follow trouble.
Come Friday, I was a trembling bag of adolescent rebelliousness, but I put on a brave face, accepting hugs from my girl friends, and ignoring the snickers from the boys.
By four pm, the small field was full of spectators, no single cloud in the sky. At least if it rained, the fight would have been scheduled for another day. Or never.
Apparently my younger brother, being so proud of me, had advertised to all his friends, and there's nothing as mouth-watering as a fight, especially when one of the fighters is a girl. Someone slapped a whip in my clammy hands, and I almost dropped it. Taunting from the boys permeated the air, making me sweat even more. I made a resolve and glared hard at the crowd of onlookers. And my duel partner arrived with an entourage. (I didn't have any, just my brother.The girls who were supposed to be my cheerleaders glided away and merged with the crowd, and became inconspicuous)
So, all in all, we fought, and emerged almost a winner, if it wasn't for the whip that tripped me.
That evening, I received an earfull from my mom, which involved a long, long lecture and her throwing hands up in exasperation. Then tended to my numerous wounds. I laid low for a week or so, before bouncing back to my old self.Being otherwise was just not exciting for me.
This is a character I would like to create for a story sometime.
What's your dream character, or a character you'd like to create for a story?