Time Lapse | Teen Ink

Time Lapse

November 15, 2014
By AllieBunting SILVER, Peachtree City, Georgia
AllieBunting SILVER, Peachtree City, Georgia
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments


      So I’m sitting here. On my back porch. Resting on our old wicker couch with the faded flower pillows. And I’m trying to figure out exactly what it is I’m supposed to be doing with this assignment. What am I supposed to think about? What am I going to write? But mainly I’m wondering how I did on that chemistry test I took the other day and how I will do on that world history test I have to take tomorrow and how my grades will be affected by the two. My head is hurting just thinking about the silence that will commence once my teacher hands out the packet of multiple choice questions involving things that happened thousands of years ago. I have enough trouble worrying about the present so I really don’t see the point in worrying so much about the past but the Fayette County Board of Education as well as colleges I suppose think I need to know about Chinese emperors from 600 BCE so it must be important, right? And don’t even get me started on the song I had to perform in front of my English class a couple weeks ago because apparently embarrassment is essential for me to learn about creation stories from religions I’ve never even heard of. All I know is that most adults don’t know half the stuff we learn about in school and the world still seems to be turning just fine.
      I sigh and begin looking around maybe trying to find something that could possibly inspire a story. I’m tempted to go back inside and study. I’m also tempted to at least turn on some music but instead I continue to sit outside and think about what I should be thinking about which I still haven’t quite figured out yet. I push school to the back of my head but the string of things that pop up next aren’t much better. A job: something I need to get. Driver’s Ed: a class I need to attend. The SAT: a test I’m going to have to take. And the next thing I know, all my future responsibilities are uninvitedly flooding into my brain: tests, applications, classes, my GPA, college. I force my thoughts to slow down because I don’t think the point of this assignment was to end with me pulling my hair out from all the stress. I take a deep breath and look into my backyard. I look past the line of trees and see the golf course on the other side of the glistening pond where I used to feed bread to the fish and turtles. My eyes wonder from the big tree I used to use as a base in tag when I was little to the cart path where I walked my dog and learned how to ride a bike to the emptiness of the yard where my play set used to be.
      That play set had everything: a slide, a swing, a steering wheel to pretend you were on a ship. What more could a little kid ask for? Then, when that became too “unstable” to play on anymore, it was replaced by a trampoline. One of those fancy ones with a net. I remember opening it up on Christmas day and impatiently waiting for my dad and his friends to set it up. I think I may have spent at least 10 minutes on there everyday. Some days I would be on there for hours. I would come home from elementary school, with friends or by myself, no homework to do, no tests to study for, no worries what so ever, and the first thing I would do is race to the trampoline. I would play games, train myself to flip, or just jump to see how high I could get. My mom eventually got rid of it without my permission (not that she needed it but it would have been nice to know) because the net had fallen off and she didn’t think it was safe anymore. I thought (and still think) she was just being paranoid. Moms tend to do that.
      My eyes shift from the empty spot that held so many memories to the woods to the left of my house and suddenly I’m eight years old again, running into the woods, wading through mud, dodging thorn bushes, and jumping over creeks to get to my secret hideout. I smile at the thought of my 2nd grade self, trying to find the exact spot where I could jump across the creek and just barely make it to the grass on the other side. You may not believe me, but this adventurous path led to an area you would imagine in a book or a movie. It wasn’t that charming and there weren’t any mythical creatures or anything but it was enough for me to use my imagination. There was an open spot, almost a perfect circle, where no trees grew although somehow there was still a canopy of leaves way overhead. There was an arc made of thorns and two cement benches as if someone made this place on purpose, which someone probably did. As much as I know, I was the only one that went there along with my siblings and friends because,  let’s be honest, how was I supposed to keep something that awesome to myself? I remember being scared when I first noticed it and wondering where it came from until I got over it five minutes later and began to play. I laugh and shake my head at how carefree everything was back then, when imagination was used to cure boredom, not the newest game in the app store; when I could be anything I wanted to be and do anything I pleased (well not anything, but you know what I mean) and all I had to worry about was the scratch on my knee or the bruise on my elbow and even that was cured with simply a band aid and some ice cream.
      I think I’m starting to get the point of this assignment (At least I think it’s the point. I could be completely wrong.) For the past 20 minutes (except the first 5), I haven’t thought of anything but my childhood. I remembered what it was like to be a little kid again when my imagination mattered more than what a few teachers considered intelligence was. Maybe the point wasn’t to think about my childhood per se but I think it was meant for us to slow our minds down and forget about the real world for a second: to just let our minds wander and see where it takes us. Mine took me to a simpler time, a time I wish I could go back to, but right now my mom is yelling at me to go back inside and finish my homework, wash the dishes, clean my room, and suddenly the weight of reality is crushing down on me once again. I take one more breath of fresh air before returning back inside to obey my mom’s orders because what other choice do I have? Hopefully, I can make time for myself like this more often but, for now, I have to go study.



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