Arts & Récits Autochtones - The Hole

The Hole

2013 - Lauréat de récits

I want to go sit under That tree in mommy’s garden. The air is always cool under That tree I’m Here Instead, In This Hole Feeling my whole disappear

Lisez l’histoire de Annalissa Pasap

Annalissa Pasap

Edmonton, AB
Whitebear First Nations, SK
Âge 17

Une note d'auteur

I first heard about a residential school survivor’s experience and his story about a punishment place called “The Hole”. He said sometimes children would be in there days at a time, and some of those children never made it out of there alive. I wanted to write this story in the perspective of a little girl. I wanted this story to have a sort of innocence to it. I tried to bring out the emotion in a visual and poetic way, at the same time wanting to try something different.

My inspiration in my style of writing is the author Ellen Hopkins. Her style of writing has really inspired me. My other inspirations were the music that i was listening to while i was writing. Music is a big part of what i write. The emotions and the style of music really contribute to my finished piece of work.
When I wrote this story I wanted the readers to get inside of the childs head, and feel the moment. I want them to see it as a film. From fade in to black out. Vision is very important to me, so i tried to give this story a visual effect.

Other things that have inspired me was my mothers experience in residential school. It has greatly affected my family. I grew up not knowing my language, but I practiced my culture. I grew up on the pow-wow trail. My favourite memories of those days were laying in my tent at night and hearing laughter and kids running around and the smell of smoke from the camp fires. Those memories contributed to this story, as well. I wanted to write about my experiences and memories.

In this story the child dies. Death was a frequent occurrence in the residential schools, and there were some cases where the parents didn’t know about their childrens death. This is an issue i wanted to bring up. There was a lot of pain and of abuse that happened in those schools. A lot of those children never made it out.

I hope whoever is reading my story enjoys what I have written. My culture and history is really important to me, and I owe it to my ancestors for my strength and my knowledge. Residential Schools have greatly affected my people and our culture. One day I want to be writing and speaking in my own language and I hope that my children will know there history and language, as well, because we are no longer indigenous people if we no longer have our culture and language.

Lisez la suite

The Hole

Mama I’m Here

In this tunnel-like room

It’s really dark

I don’t like it here.

I want to leave this place.

There mean to me.

Summer Is Here

I want to go sit under

That tree in mommy’s garden.

The air is always cool under

That tree

I’m Here Instead, In This Hole

Feeling my whole disappear

Emma was in this room.

I tried looking for her.

She should have been here.

I saw her go in.

Two Days Ago They Put Me Here.

I wasn’t doing anything bad

I promise

I was trying to be good like you told me to.

But they hit me

They hit me hard

I didn’t feel it at first, but now I do.

It’s Like a Hole, But it Feels Bigger.

It won’t stop running.

I tried everything.

It won’t stop.

And I can feel myself going numb.

When I Sleep, I Dream.

I dream about how life was

When we were together

Of the stories, and the smell of smoke from the fire.

The jokes and the laughter of the old people.

That’s my heaven

My best memories

It’s been a long time now.

I left, it was my fault.

I let them take me.

There is Something About This Place.

There is something about this feeling that keeps pulling at me.

It’s like everything is getting darker.

But I can still see everything around me.

The running won’t stop.

I want it to stop.

I want it all to stop.

We Are All in Our Own Private Traps.

We all have our own traps.

We deliberately step in our own traps.

This is mine.

My trap is like everyone else’s here.

It is a hell.

Our own private hell

I Can’t Ever Tell You About it.

I feel as if I don’t have enough time to make it back to you.

I can feel it coming.

Maybe when I get there, I’ll be able to see you.

See you go on with your day

And just watch you in silence.

You won’t see me, of course.

I’m Afraid.

You said you were supposed to go before me.

Isn’t that’s how it’s done.

You said we would never lose each other.

You said we would have a long time together.

I Was Waiting For The Day When I Would Become Just Like You

And like my aunties and like big sister

The day they would dance for me.

The day they said I would grow up.


It Feels Like I Can Sleep Now. I Don’t Feel Scared Anymore Mommy. It’s Going To Be Okay.

You don’t have to worry about me anymore. You just need to worry about little Andrew.

He is still such a darling, mama. You would be proud. You  would be  really  proud.

He looks so much like papa. He is going to be a handsome man. I wish I can be

There for him. He needs me to be there. But I’m not  needed here  anymore.

Mommy, there taking me. Grandpa is taking me with him. He told me

Not to worry. He told me I would be safe now. He said I could visit

You whenever I want now. But I cannot talk to you. He said

Those were the rules. If I talk to you I might scare   you.

I don’t want to scare  you. I  don’t want  you to   be

Sad for  me. I’m sad. I’m  also  happy.  Mommy,

I  got  out!  I’m  safe, and  I hope   Andrew

Makes it out.   I want  you  to  see  him.

I feel safe and warm. Nothing hurts

here. I feel at  peace. I  know we

will be Together again. I will

miss you and daddy when

I’m gone.  I’m waiting

For you  here. I will

Love you forever

And  ever.  I