You can break a promise
You can break a heart
You can break a creature’s spirit
Or a body part
But you can’t break a person’s soul
It can’t be touched by human hand
You may’ve broken me in most ways
But my soul you can’t reach or understand
No more lectures
I get it
I’m nothing, compared to you
I see your size
You have the power
At this point
You’re preaching to the choir
Do you feel that small
Need me to know
My smallness next to you
Who would we both be
If you held me up
And let me reach
My full height
“Are you a boy, or a girl?” she asked, lip curled in a grin that implied she knew but just wanted to make me feel small. It worked.
“I won’t even dignify that with an answer!” I said…
…silently, in my head.
I felt the familiar rush of shame blush my cheeks a rosy pink, and stood, frozen, eyeing the group of kids standing behind the most popular girl in my new school.
My heart pounded in my chest so hard I feared it might explode through like a fist.
That image gave me some comfort: the blood would splatter all over Susie (Jenny? Brittany?) and crowd, so there’d at least be that.
Ruing the short haircut my Mom had talked me into just before we moved, my flat-chested, barrel-like bigger-than-most-girls-my-age body, and my fair, freckle-speckled skin, I tried to think of something to say that would get me out of this encounter with some teensy shred of my dignity in tact.
This was it. The way I handled this moment would set the tone for my future in this new environment, this new social strata. I searched the memory banks of my mind for some comeback that could get me out of this mess relatively unscathed. Perhaps even ahead in some way, having won them over with my wit under duress.
Nope. I got nothin’.
I felt a bead of sweat drip from under my left arm, causing a tickling sensation that, unfortunately, made me start to giggle. Hearing myself giggle made me feel a bit hysterical, which then caused me to actually start laughing hysterically.
And so what I actually did when faced with the elite of my new school was I stood there like a laughing hyena while they stood and stared in a mix of disgust and curiosity.
Eventually, the ringleader (Alyssa? Mandy? What was her name?) flipped her blond hair and said “Whatever!” as she turned and led the rest off.
Alone again, after the hysteria had crested and eventually receded, I took a deep breath in, and gave myself a silent “Welcome to your new school, Loser!”
The laughing jag had worn me out and left me with a hollow feeling that I knew all too well.
It was gonna be a bumpy year.
Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: dignify
I can still taste it
The soil that you rubbed my face in
What did you feel
As you looked at the fear in my eyes
Did you feel stronger
Having made me feel small
Or did you know down deep inside
That nothing you did to me
Could ever make it all better
I can still taste it
But it only reminds me
Of how far I have come
And what little I’ve left behind
Rose spit into the dirt, disgusted with herself, so mad she could barely see straight.
What jerks. She hadn’t been doing anything. Why did they hate her so?
She picked herself up off the lawn, peeling away the blades of grass that were stuck to her knees one by one, fingering the long dent-canals they left behind on her skin.
The kids had already moved on down the block, their laughter taunting her as they looked back, turning the corner.
She felt the hot flush of shame rush down the back of her neck and through her body, her fingers tingling, tears flooding her eyes.
She choked it all down and thought about what she could do. There was no where to go. No one to tell.
“This is just temporary, honey. You’ll see. In time, they’ll get to know you, you’ll find friends.” Her Mom tried, but she had no idea of the way things really were.
She folded her pain and confusion back into the loneliness that she carried with her always, and with lips pressed together with determination, she walked back home to the numbing relief and friendship to be found in oreos and chips.
At least she had that.
#bullying #therootoftheproblem #foodisnotlove
Inspired by The Daily Post word prompt: temporary
Beyond the Skinny Branches 