Do You Think That Playing Truant Is Always Bad?

Posted on December 28, 2009


all the parts are fiction…except the belief itself

I believe every aspect in this life has its own line of work. This belief is the strongest principal in my life, since I was a teenager. Probably, this belief is very abstract. So, I would like to share a story about it so you can get my idea about what I believe in.

It happened when I was 13 years old. I used to be a bad girl, with boyish attitude and sort of those things. I used to blame my Math teacher because of her unfairness towards some of my friends. She gave bad mark to my best friend, who was insulted by my teacher because she was poor and ugly. I did not know if this was the main reason of giving my friend bad mark, but I could not think of better reason. My Math teacher thought that I was trying to get everybody’s attention because I was mentioned as a very quiet girl but like to make a rebellion gang. Well, I was not like that. I just like to play truant and went to the nearest game centre. I was bad for myself. But this was different. I just could not stand over injustice. That day I was debated with my teacher.

“Just shut up and get out of the classroom!” shouted my Math teacher. My body was trembling, accompanied with my empty feeling, walked towards the door and went outside the classroom. The teacher sent me out of the class for a week, fortunately just for Mathematics class.

I went to the infirmary and sat on a chair. I felt blood streaming fast through my vein. My body was trembling. My teeth were chattering against my will to face my Math teacher, wanting to say that she was cruel enough to deploy a kamikaze cavalry. I scratch my back, my shoulders, my arms, my cheeks, hoping to stop the negative image of my teacher, but I could not stop it. So, I stood up and walked to the school gate. I entered a game centre in front of my junior high school.

“Hallo, young lady. What are you doing there?” a man voice greeted me. I turned my back and saw a tall, young man, with soft wrinkles and chubby cheeks, stood at my right. I made a wrinkle and bit my lips. Before I knew his name, he said

“You are from 8C class, right? Don’t you know me? I’m Tony from 8H,”

“Oh, sorry, I couldn’t recall your name before,”

“That’s fine. What are you doing here? Suppose you play truant again?” he smiled cynically. I smiled, too. But not that cynical. No, not cynical at all.

“It’s no use. My Math teacher sent me out of the class. I don’t know what to do except playing online games here. Any objection?”

“I think you should apologize to your teacher,”

“What? No! I can’t! She is merely injustice!”

“Everybody knows that. So, why are you wasting your time verifying your teacher’s characterization?”

“But she… She is making fun of my friend!”

“Yeah, sometimes it cannot be helped. It’s her stumbling block, her life’s journey. Why you interfere her so much? Let her solve it herself. If you are at school, you are dealing with your study, not anything else. Got it?”

“Hey, that’s interesting. Why didn’t I think that way before? Thank you very much. I’m trying my best.”

“Just want to remind you…” he whispered. He strolled out the game centre, leaving a satisfaction smile.

“Hey, wait a minute. Who is he? I don’t think he is my friend from other class. Hey, whatever. He opened my mind. He’s right. Why interfere?”

And now I have changed my point of view. I believe every aspect in this life has its own line of work. I learn to sort all things into different fields. I always think of every part as part, whole as whole. In other word, as its nature. I have many different approaches in dealing with problems, personalities, and even with joy. I can manage my time quite well so I still can play video games although I have a lot of assignments to do. To sum up, I just want to let you know a bit about my life after that event….

The show must go on. I went through the punishment from my teacher. One week was over. I studied hard, made a lot of friends, deciphered many action games, and still play truant in some moment. At the end of the semester my parents took my school report. It was written there… Dita Surya Kartika, rank 3rd from 50 students of 8C.