Prose Poetry | Writing Prompt | Routines

My Red Spot 🔴

Crickets and the inner world of an anxious child in routine chaos

I can feel them. The crickets. Jumping. They’re always jumping. Hard, pokey feet. Digging into my stomach. Stabby needles in my stomach. And their wings. I can feel them. Scraping together. Right one on top. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. The buzzing. It’s there. In my stomach. Stabby needles. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Oh, there’s the music. Music means run. I must run. Run to the red spot. I must be first. Oh, help me. I must be first. Toes on the red spot. My red spot. Mrs V. put the red spot there. It’s my red spot. It’s mine. I must be first. I’m here. Look at my toes. My toes on the red spot. Yes, I’m here. On the red spot. The music. It’s buzzing. It’s in my ears. It’s too loud. Hey, don’t bump me. Don’t knock me off my red spot. Get away. It’s my red spot. I’m first. I’m always first. The crickets. I can feel them. Jumping and buzzing in my stomach. Their wings scraping together. Right one on top. My toes. Look at my toes. On the red spot. Wait for the door to open. Mrs V. will open the door. Follow the red line. The red line into the classroom. Mrs V. always opens the door. Then I will follow the red line. Look at the red spot. It’s okay. My toes are on the red spot. It’s my red spot. I’m first. The crickets. They’re buzzing. They’re buzzing in my stomach. Mum calls me Jiminy. “Smile, Jiminy.” Jiminy. Jiminy Cricket. A cartoon cricket. Cartoons aren’t real. Jiminy is not real. He has a top hat and umbrella. Crickets don’t have top hats and umbrellas. They scrape their wings together and buzz. I can feel them buzzing. They’re real. And their feet are pokey. Poke. Poke. Poke. Please, Mrs V., please open the door. My toes are on the red spot. The music will stop. I hate when the music stops. It stops and then the bell. Brong. Brong. Brong. I hate the bell. Mrs V., please, open the door. I’m ready to follow the red line. I’m first. My toes are on the red spot. See, my toes are on the red spot. Now, listen for the door. Listen to it open. Listen for the blick. And the shquoosh. And the squeech. Mrs V. will say, “Good morning, 1V.” The door will open. Blick. Shquoosh. Squeech. “Good morning, 1V.” My toes are on the red spot. The music is buzzing. Buzzing in my ears. Please, open the door. Then I can follow the red line. There. The music has stopped. Wait for the bell. It will go brong, brong, brong. I hate the bell. There it goes. Brong. Brong. Brong. Ow, my head. It’s buzzing. The crickets. I can feel them. Their hard, pokey feet. Stabby needles. Please, open the door, Mrs V.. My red spot. Look at my toes. My toes on the red spot. Oh, there it is. The door. Blick. Shquoosh. Squeech.

“Good morning, boys and girls.”

What? That’s not Mrs V. Where’s Mrs V.? Ow, stabby needles. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. I must run. Where’s Mrs V? I must run…run…crick…Mum…bzzzz

For children with anxiety disorders and conditions like autism spectrum disorders, the morning routine of lining up at the classroom door can be excruciatingly painful. Their neural systems, already on high alert, are overrun by an avalanche of incoming sensory information. It takes enormous willpower and mental energy for them to regulate their behaviour so that they can function in an environment which, to them, seems chaotic and hostile. It takes only one change to upset their fragile status quo.

In my role as a speech pathologist, I’ve worked with many children who have struggled with anxiety. While they will typically improve with maturation, their first years at school can be particularly stressful with their body’s natural ‘fight-flight-freeze’ response to threat constantly at risk of being triggered. Routine is key to maintaining a level of calm that allows them to engage with their environment, interact with their peers and progress with their learning.

Thank you to Dr. Preeti Singh for tagging me into Tree Langdon’s Routines and Changes prompt which in turn stemmed from Joe Luca’s prompt. You can find Preeti’s lovely poem here —

I would also like to thank J.D. Harms for his Wednesday Prose Poetry prompt: Routines —

J.D., as you can see, I’m still feeling my way with prose poetry! When I think about it some more, I see that my juvenile word splurge also aligns with your recent prompts, Soliloquies and Speechless. I still intend to respond separately to the later prompt — just have to get myself into the right headspace. 😅

Finally, thank you to Dr Mehmet Yildiz and his editorial team at ILLUMINATION-Curated for publishing my chaotic attempt at a prose poem. 🙏 💕