What was so appealing about swinging back & forth like that? Why did other children enjoy it so much? Wilhelm contemplated these inquires as he watched his schoolmates, grinning brightly & laughing, on the metal contraption that compelled them up with the force of their legs. It seemed weird to him, though that was nothing new; most of what the other children did seemed odd. Empty eyes widened slightly as one child jumped from the leather strap attached to metal loops & landed nimbly on his feet – something bubbled in his chest & all he could think was how he wanted to do that, too. The other children cheered for their classmate, a few swarming over & hopping off their own stationary swings to fawn over how 'cool' that had looked, or how 'impressed' they were – none of those words meant anything to Wilhelm, however, their definitions remained enigmatic.
As the other children stayed around the proud child towards the end of the swings, Wilhelm hesitantly moved towards one of the now empty straps. He wanted to do it, too, though he didn't know why. Delicately he sat himself down, small hands gripping the cold metal loops as he experimented with pumping his legs. Awkwardly he & the contraption began to move together; out of sync, at first, yet in a few moments he seemed to understand how it worked. If he flailed his legs out, he would move backwards; & if he curled them in, he would be propelled forward. Simple. A few rotations of those movements & soon Wilhelm was using the toy correctly, being swung back & forth; high into the air & then back again, over & over. Yet he still didn't understand what was fun about this.
He could feel the wind disheveling his hair & the drop in his stomach as a natural fear swam through his blood from being so high up, yet they were soft, unnoticeable feelings; nothing noteworthy. He could not experience the elation other children found in this because all the feelings associated with it fell on nearly numb skin. Though a small disappointment – gone unnamed – welled in his chest, the surging squeeze hadn't been quelled yet. He wanted to jump, he wanted to do it too. The boy inhaled deeply as, with one more swing backwards, he steeled himself for whatever may come. As the swing reached it's top height, Wilhelm pushed himself forward, hands releasing the metal loops, as he had seen the other boy do, & flew through the air.
Yet with his condition inherently came a clumsy nature. He could not feel his legs enough to position them correctly as the ground eagerly rose; he could not feel his arms to hold them outwards & catch himself. & so as the end of his flight approached, he collided with the ground unceremoniously. Face first, he landed on the gravel, his skin instantly being shredded against the rough rocks, painting them red. His body slid a few feet, arms & legs flailing wildly, before running out of momentum. Through this chaos, Wilhelm remained silent, though the sound of his classmates screaming, followed by their feet crushing against the stone littered ground as they ran away filled his ears.
He laid there for a few moments, attempting to understand the mixed feelings in his chest. His heart had sunk & his stomach churned; breathing was difficult, though he didn't know why. He didn't know why any of it was happening. When the playground had gone silent after the children had fled to another part of the area, Wilhelm rolled himself on his back & extended his arms up to the sky. Spaces on his long sleeves had been cut open, revealing parts of his arms cut & spilling red on his white shirt. Specks of gravel lay embedded on his hands & a sickly purple color had begun to spread. Apathetically, he stared at these afflictions, turning his hands around & around slowly for a moment before allowing them to fall to the ground at his sides again.
"Why … couldn't I do it ?"
The boy wondered softly to himself, the glaring sun burning his eyes, though even that went unnoticed. Yet soon his vision of the sky was blocked by a girl leaning over him.
"Whoa, are you okay?"
Wilhelm blinked up at her for a moment before nodding dimly.
"Mhmm."
He breathed, despite how much of a lie that was. Physically, yes, he was perfectly fine. He couldn't feel any part of his torn & ripped skin, after all.
"Mom will be mad, won't she…"
The rhetoric was given with the same flat tone as his pale green eyes closed, a sense of nameless defeat worming through his heart.