Driven - creative writing.

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Laura Coles 10R

Driven

“Miss, Adam won’t join in,” Sarah called in a whining tone over the din of the classroom. She looked disdainfully over at the silent boy sat staring at the wall, seemingly oblivious to the activity around him. Although he appeared to be one of them – in the same red uniform, on the same hard orange chairs and with the same childish features – Adam was far from the average Year Two pupil.

When he first came to Saltford Primary Adam was the same as all the others around him, he played and learnt equally, but it soon became apparent to his teachers and fellow pupils that he was learning faster than the others did. At first the teachers encouraged Adam, giving him extra and harder work to keep him as driven as he was. But when he began to reject the other children because they didn’t understand him and to sit reading on the playground instead of playing, they became worried and stopped providing him with challenging work; trying to ‘make him normal again’. Their plan seemed to have the reverse of the desired effect and Adam became more secluded. By now the teachers, who were not very motivated in their low paid jobs, just left him alone, only bothering to acknowledge the ‘strange little boy’ when absolutely necessary, preferring to just pretend he wasn’t there.

It was this blatant refusal to acknowledge him that made Adam so frustrated with his school and the people in it. The teachers seemed to underestimate him and his abilities by making him perform the same menial tasks as these lesser creatures. But he never lost his passion for learning. The little boy would sit for hours at the public library, the only place where he felt at ease, making his friends in the authors and living his life in other worlds. Adam felt that the only people who could possibly understand him were the great geniuses of the past - Shakespeare, Einstein, Mozart - and so he tried to be as like them as possible. He wrote poetry in his spare time, as well as painting, and learning to play seventeen instruments. His parents funded these ‘phases’ as they called them and were very proud of the way he seemed to master almost any task, but they did not know just how intelligent Adam was and so left him to his own devices.

Because of the lack of support and challenge in his life Adam became a very angry child. However, he never did anything about it, keeping his anger bottled up inside, the pressure building ready to fly out at any moment like a cork popping out of a bottle of champagne. By the time Adam reached Year Two, the pressure just needed a slight push to explode, and that push came on that bleak Tuesday afternoon in early March when the children in 2LH had been set some group work on simple multiplication.

Adam had already progressed in maths as far as he could at the library and so felt no need to participate in putting the right questions with answers to create a ‘pretty pattern’. After Sarah’s complaint, Mrs Healy sighed and stepped around the small children to crouch down in front of Adam, her bushy hair not quite hiding her tired eyes, filled with frustration.

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“Now, Adam, don’t you want to learn your sums?” her syrupy voice and idiotic questions gave him a headache but he kept his mouth firmly closed. Obviously he didn’t or he’d be doing the stupid sums. “You know, you need to know this Adam because otherwise you won’t be able to do lots of things when you’re older,” she persisted in a more strained tone. Adam already knew of the importance of multiplication in more advanced maths because he had studied algebra and trigonometry at the library so again he did not answer her. Mrs Healy was past trying to ...

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