We Are Monsters

• Tazmeen Khan, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2021

We are monsters. We are strange and deformed, we are other-worldly. We are broken puzzle pieces looking for a box. The scars that mark our body are ripples of silver and gold, a uniqueness we used to embrace. Now we cower in fear as we stare through the glass. What will the scientists do to us?

I look down at my hands. Cuts and bruises envelop the beads of blood that slither down my callus fingers. I glance around at my friends. Our faces are all masked in indifference. Some of us even look bored. But inside, we’re reeling, our once sturdy hearts now brittle, we’re shuddering, our stomachs are turning, we’re scared for what will come next.

I look through the glass. A pair of guards stand outside our cage, holding guns. Despite their backs facing us, we know they are agitated – how could they not be? We bleed glitter, we sweat cascades of rubies. The glass appears impenetrable. I cast my eyes around the room. I can only see a security camera. I dig into my pocket to search for something, just a pebble would do, but my efforts are in vain. They’re going to take us, they’re going to gouge out our eyes, they’re going to do everything to find nothing.

I throw myself against the glass, shards of glass flickering about. The glass so easily unfolds under me. Splinters of glass form large crevasses on me as they brush past, these fragments of a broken dollhouse. There are no screams from behind me, no sounds, a blissful silence as my friends file out, as if they have done so a million times. In a way, we have. A million parallel realities, a million stars in the night sky, so out of reach. What would happen if our bodies didn’t shine like fires? I continue to fall. It feels like flying until I hit the ground, glitter spraying everywhere. A path of hope for my friends. I look up and can no longer see anyone. It is just me and the glass and the seeping glitter in the room. The glitter makes a puddle surrounding my body. I move my hand around in it, and it sways at my touch. I hear a million doors open from afar. My friends are free. I scoop up some of the glass and sprinkle it about in the pool of gold, a million stars. I lay down in the still oozing glitter, fading into embers as the callous kiss of death veils me.

We are monsters. We are scared and scarred, we are beautiful and free.