Mentally Traumatizing

Today during gym class we were supposed to be finishing up dance presentations. I was looking forward to seeing the last group present their dance, because they had [h.e.n.] who has a reputation for being a good choreographer. As usual, we changed and sat down in our groups, waiting for everyone to be seated. I waited for our teacher to take attendance, killing time by staring at the banner covered walls. Our gym has a divider wall that runs down the middle and can be retracted, and so two classes can share the gym at once, or on rare occasions, we have a giant space for ourselves. The boys' change room is on one side, while the girls' change room is on the other, so the girls always have to pass through the other class's side (occupied by 8J) and cross the divider in order to reach ours.

Mr. L was just telling us about how after the last group presented, we would be starting our bordenball unit, when a trickle of 8J students came sprinting through the small space in between the divider and the far wall. Mr. L stopped speaking as they ran by yelling a bunch of incoherent things, mostly to each other. He seemed rather irritated as he stood with his hands frozen in mid-gesture, his eyes following them through the door. As he was about to continue speaking, yet another, larger group came through, and this time I could hear snatches of conversation.

"...injured, get Mrs. A!"

"...getting help..."

"Someone stay with him!"

"I'll tell the office."

"Singyu's injured!"

"...convulsing!"

"...having a seizure..."

"Singyu is having a seizure!"

What?! At this point, I was filled with dread. Why? What happened? I looked around at everyone else, exchanging glances.

"Singyu fell and hit his head on the ground, and he's convulsing now!" Teo had stopped running in front of the door to inform us. "You know what, maybe we should just wait, enough people have gone to get help."

Whispers everywhere. Disbelief. How was that possible? Each person had their own story to tell. Variations occured, and arguments arose. What seemed to have happened was that Singyu jumped from the top of a staircase, expecting to land at the bottom, but his head smashed into a wood bar close to the ceiling and knocked his head onto the stairs.

As Mr. L left the gym, he told us to find something to do. People began to get out equipment: basketballs, nets, hockey sticks; however most people's minds were still on Singyu. A few people got out gym mats with the intent of practicising handstands and cartwheels, only to end up sitting in small clusters, discussing his fate. Mr. L came back and told us that Singyu was alright. He knew where he was and who he was, and had been transported to Scarborough Grace Hospital.

That night, when I logged onto Windows Live Messenger, half the people had messages wishing him well.

Singyu is currently in a stable condition. He had to have brain surgery to clean up the internal bleeding, but is now resting. Tomorrow, more than twenty people will go to Pacific Mall to buy him some gifts.