Questions...

• Abigail Goldman, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2014

Looking in the mirror, I see more black and blue, and violet than myself. This tells a story, every scratch and every bruise. It has a story of it's own, never wanting it, but always getting it. I always hear that rhyme of sticks and stones may break your bones, but whenever I hear that rhyme of sticks and stones may break your bones I always think of what comes after that. Sticks and stones may break your bones but... what?
what can hurt more than the things that I have been called, tell me if that can hurt more than a broken bone. I am always last. I go home where no hope lingers, only the fading echoes of my past. I want to throw up meal after meal until they say I'm perfect; I'll be pretty and declared the fairest of them all. Then the next day, I'm the same. every day is like a radio stuck on repeat. I am blind but now I see, there are more kids like me who goes to show and tell with broken teeth that have a secret but it has no words it wants to say. Then comes the questions... What makes them better? What makes them prettier? Why does appearance matter? Where is the phrase 'don't judge a book by it's cover' or 'one of a kind' go, did they erase it from memory? Why do I care about what they think? Then the big questions... Why do they care about me so much? Reflections haunt me. Laughing and pointing, an animal in a cage, no escape
and surrounded. And they always laugh that it hurts in the hardest place. My heart. The are hunters hunting us, every capture takes away a piece of our dreams, hope and faith... but most of all, they take away what we believe in most... Believing in ourselves. Every day I day I hear more rumours and names waving around like a mean hello, with evil eyes and a devilish grin. All it takes is one glare to make a little part of our beliefs to pop. The only way to declare victory is to believe that they were wrong. The only beauty I care about is the one they don't care about. Two little words...
INNER BEAUTY.