CW: The following soliloquy addresses the experience of bullying victims, implying sexual molessing and predatory actions, and includes derogatory and sexist language; it is not suitable for all audiences.
[Author’s note]: Umbra is the scientific term for the inner shadow found during a common eclipse, and often appears as a never-ending hole of infinite, vacuum, darkness. Here it is used to describe the character’s complex emotions of despair and frustration.
Rushes home from school to read dreaded report card comments.
[Sighs] This is no big deal is it? Just gonna casually face other’s judgementality…
Opens envelope. Deflates.
Homeroom:
Ciara is an excellent student and a joy to have in homeroom class. However, she seems to lack an interest in social gatherings and activities, and should partake in school athletics in order to branch out.
Puts paper down. Thinks.
[Tries to force a laugh]: The last time I showed up at a school event, the whole class started coughing:
[coughs]: Sorry I’m allergic to whores.
Allergic. To. Whores.
Sighs. Picks up paper again, reads the next line.
English:
Ciara is exceeding expectations with regards to work habits, however, she has a difficult time abiding to book recommendations from both teachers and librarians, refusing to read age-appropriate content and creating a negative influence on her peers.
Struggles a bit to put paper down. Thinks.
[Staggered breathing]: It’s not mentioned that I left school once not on a bus, but on an ambulance, due to the panic attack she gave me for reading All the Light We Cannot See. [Sarcastically]: Because seeing a classmate leave on life support has such a positive impact on the school community.
Sighs. Picks up paper again, reads the next line.
Math:
In Math 7, Ciara has worked well when collaborating, but should work on seeking out help when necessary. For example, she repeatedly declined one-on-one extra help sessions when offered during our Algebra unit and proceeded to struggle with quizzes and tests.
Really struggles to put paper down. Thinks.
He…leaves out the fact that he once barged into our girls-only dormitory during a service trip, sat down on the couch and. Watched. Us. Change.
Silence.
Sometimes, the words they use to define and label and limit us by…sometimes, the words seep in. They become these voices inside your head chanting: you are not enough…you never will be…and you will always be alone. They are there when I make breakfast; they are there when I eat it; and still later; when I'm doing the dishes. They. Are still. There. They are ALWAYS there!!!
[stands up, rips report cards, throws it across stage, runs over in fury and stamps on it, makes fists, collapse in a heap, continues tantrum for approximately 11.7 seconds before somewhat regaining composure]
So what, exactly, do I do? I crouch in a corner of my little world with a pen [grabs pen, uncaps it] and a notepad [position pen and notepad as if to begin writing], and I write. A monologue. It’s called: Umbra.