Words and Scars

By , manhattan, NY

I opened my eyes. As the beaming light hit my eyes, I was forced to squint. Dad? Mom? In one room? Oh God. My parents bickering had woke me up. Great! For the first time in two years, my whole family is together. The only thing was that we were at an emergency room. Not the exact place I would want a family reunion.  


We were at the emergency room because of me. At the time I was seven years old. Me being “smart” thought that I could cross the street without the green light. My mother tried to stop me but I got out of her tightening grasp and ran. All of a sudden, I was thrown to the cold grey concrete. Though it lasted for a few minutes, it seemed like an eternity. Moments ago I was fine; my thoughts and my visions were so precise and clear. But all that went down hill. I was awake until I could hear the sirens of the ambulance. I tried to stay woke but my eyes got heavier and heavier as each moment slowly passed. I was told later that it was a bicycle that knocked me down.


Obviously I was in some serious pain. My arm was dislocated. I felt as if my arms have snapped into two pieces and if I move it even in the slightest way it will fall off, the sensation had spread throughout my body. The pain was so incredibly unbearable that I couldn't explain it in words. But this pain didn’t hurt me as much as these specific words had. At the time I thought words were just words. That words didn't mean anything, or that they stay a burden in your heart and it didn't hurt you in anyways, or that they couldn't make you have thoughts that you wish you have never had. I was incredibly wrong. When the universe and god said it was time for me to be taught a lesson that words do affect people, I was not one bit ready. Nevertheless it still happened. I heard my step grandma say the phrase


  “Leave your kids behind, they’ve caused you enough pain. You don't need them”.


“How am I going to do that? They’re my children.” My mother replied revolted.


My mother and step grandma realized that I was awake the whole time. My mother’s face turned white. You could notice that a wave of fear rushed through her body. However my grandmother just glared at me with such a vicious look in her eyes. She stared at me as if she was telling me that she meant every word she said and didn't regret anything not even a word.


All I felt was as if bricks came flying and hit me right in the face. No warnings at all. I didn't know whether the room went dead silent or if the vexation bubbling inside me made me go deaf for about a minute. But everything in my head was racing. I felt like my heart broke into a million pieces and it would never come back together. A thought that immediately pops into my mind is what kind of person encourages their daughter to leave their kids? I inhaled a deep breath, I sat up, my hands were in fists, and I started yelling at the top of my lungs. But I regret doing that, because that resulted in me crying out rivers that lasted for hours but worst of all it made me look weak and as if I couldn't do anything. Ever since that day I have never looked at her the same way. But I have learned that people will always try to bring you down but you just have to fight back and learn how to find your way to success.
                         
 






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