[Short Story] The Day the Suitcase I Made to Escape Reality Saved Me

If I were to describe my life in one word,
a 'spiral staircase' would probably fit best.

Today, I want to talk about just one step
of that spiral staircase.

* * *

The entrance to the spiral staircase began with total rejection.

My high school was a preparatory school.

In university entrance exams, which could be called the first crossroads of life,
my first choice, second choice, and safety school,
all failed.

While everyone around me was deciding their paths one after another,
the place I slipped into at the very last minute
was a training school for childcare workers.

It wasn't the path I had wanted at all...


The entrance ceremony.
Everyone's faces were overflowing with hope.

I was different.
Total rejection.
I came here because it was the only place left.

Even though I was from a prep school.
I was the only one who ended up at such a low-deviation-score school.
How embarrassing...

I felt like I was the only one out of place,
and I felt incredibly miserable.

The girl who spoke to me first asked,

'Hey, hey, which course are you choosing? Childcare? Kindergarten?'

'Uh...'

Course?
I don't know. I don't know what I should choose.

I asked those around me. Anything is fine as long as it's the same as everyone else.
What do I want to become?
I really don't know that at all.

I returned to my small, one-room apartment.
I hugged my knees tightly.

What am I doing?
I came to a path I didn't even want to follow.
I can't even decide on a single course to aim for.

What did I want to do so badly that I even left my parents' home?

I could keep up with the classes.
But the problem was the practical training.
Somewhere in my heart, the feeling of being forced to do it followed me.

My evaluations were terrible.

'I don't feel any motivation from you.'
'If you don't speak up more, the children won't follow you.'

I know...
I know that.
This isn't good enough, is it?

What should I do?
How do you even find motivation?

While thinking about these things in circles, I silently made paper theater sets and finger puppets for the training.

Only while moving my hands could I become mindless.
I was able to avoid thinking about unpleasant things.

The practical training that I hated so much.
All that kept increasing were the goods I had on hand.

You only need to bring one.
That's what they said at school.

Because I was running away from thinking,
my suitcase ended up full.

'Haha...'

How much did I hate it?
How mindlessly was I making these?

Only when I saw the amount did I laugh to myself.

The previous training and the one before that were terrible.

I wondered if it would be the same again.
But.

Only one thing was different.
I have a bag packed full of stuff right here.

The childcare worker in charge of my training asked,
'Oh, did you bring something?'
I showed her the contents.

'Oh, so many!'
You're amazing. You're full of motivation.'

No... no...
That's not it.
I'm sorry. That's completely wrong.

It's just that my escapism took on a physical form.
The expectations of the childcare workers only grew.

Apparently, the story even reached the director for some reason.
I was called over as I was leaving.

'I heard you're going to do something in the playroom tomorrow in front of all the classes. The children are all looking forward to it.'

'Huh!?'

Hey, hey, I didn't hear about that!
All the classes?
And in the playroom?

The size and the number of people are on a different scale.
Why did it suddenly become such a big deal!

'Tomorrow, I've set aside a one-hour slot.'
There are even zero-year-olds, but I won't specify target ages or details. Just do as you like.'

Half of it didn't even sink in.

The lesson plan...
Hmm...

The target age is 0 to 6 years old.
The range is too wide.
It was hard enough with just the 3-year-olds last time...

And the playroom.
A place so big my voice wouldn't reach.

I can see myself just standing there in a daze...

The time usually given to students is
at most about 30 minutes.
I was given one hour.

'Haha...'

When things get this absurd, it's actually funny.
I can't imagine a future where this goes well, not even by a millimeter.

Ah, so this is what they call an impossible game.
Yeah, yeah. That's it.
Right. It's useless to think about it.

A lesson plan?
A progress schedule?

No, no. It's a waste of time to write it.

Right.
I'll sleep today, and tomorrow, whatever happens, happens.
Goodnight.

For the first time, I slept without thinking about anything.

The day of.

Countless gazes in the large hall.
Those eyes filled with expectation.

It's too dazzling.

I hadn't seriously decided what to start with.
My mind was completely blank from the extreme nervousness.

Then, a voice came from somewhere.

'Teacher, what's in that bag?'

Huh.
No way, is it starting from there?
It's too sudden.

There is no script.
Well, what to do.

Oh well! Whatever happens, happens!

The starting bell rang.

'This is...'
A magic bag that makes everyone smile.'

'It has lots of good things inside.'

'What's inside?'
Watch closely. Here I go? Here I goooo?'

Pop!!

'Wow~ It's a piggie!'

The finger puppet I made mindlessly.
Everyone's eyes were fixed on my fingertips.

Could it be that the hook was successful?

With the children's great reactions,
my switch was flipped.

'Oh my~? The piggie has a friend. Oh, I can only see the tail.'
Who is it? Can everyone tell?'

'A fish!'
'No, it's a whale!'

Voices flew from here and there.
I picked up those voices one after another.

Before I knew it, the first 30 minutes had passed in a flash.

On the way, I heard the crying of the small children
in the back.

The 1-year-olds and 2-year-olds were starting to get bored.

I rummaged through my bag for something with impact.
I took out a piece of pink construction paper.
'Hey everyone, what do you think this will become?'

I shouted as loud as I could.

The child who was crying in the back stopped for a moment.
Good, I faked it.

I got their interest at least!
I folded the construction paper.

'What will it become? I'll fold it one more time. Is it a triangle?'

'A triangle!'
'The moon!'

I cut the folded paper with scissors.
When I opened it, it became a flower. Nothing special.

'Everyone. Then, I'm going to open it.'
Watch closely now.'

Wow~ ❤︎❤︎❤︎

The children's eyes were sparkling.

I will never forget that scene for the rest of my life.
For the first time in my life, I felt that practical training was fun.

When it was over, I received high praise from both the homeroom teacher and the director.

When I returned to school after the 3-week training,
I was told,
'Your evaluation was very high.'

No script, just an impromptu performance.
That was highly evaluated.

It's strange.

What will be evaluated,
I really don't know.

But,
it was fun ♫

* * *

Looking back on it now,
that day was the day I climbed one step up the spiral staircase.

That day, what I packed full into my suitcase wasn't a picture-story show.

Perhaps it was the time that the me from back then
thought was a waste.

I hope I can talk about the rest of this somewhere else sometime.