Sticks and Stones | Teen Ink

Sticks and Stones

April 7, 2011
By LoganAshlie BRONZE, Vernon, Connecticut
LoganAshlie BRONZE, Vernon, Connecticut
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Let's start at the beginning.
You were, say, 5 weeks into your mother's first trimester.
Your vocal cords wouldn't be developed for another 5 weeks and yet...
That would be the most used part of your body.
Fast forward 6 years, and you can be seen roaming the playground looking at everything and talking about...absolutely nothing to anyone who'd listen.
You...weren't a shy child.
You were more outgoing that most,
singing to strangers in the grocery store and making friends everywhere you turned.
But, like hopscotch, the numbers just flew by and away went 9, and you skipped past 12 and now...you're 16.
Underclassman. Quiet. Alone.
That, brave little girl who made friends around every bend has been bottled up and shoved to the back of your own cluttered mind.
Everything you want to say, is written in a notebook no one opens, but you.
Those vocal cords are slowly eroding away,
except when you escape in chorus and you belt out all the emotions you're too scared to let out any other way.
The same precious gift your mother gave you, has been used to harm you.
Mutterings of lies, and whispers of gossip just to add a little spice to everyday activity, have somehow...
Made you their main attraction in their dehumanization process.
So...now you're a mute.
Everything seeps in, but nothing ever comes out.
You're scared to say anything, knowing your words will be used against you by the same girl who promised best friends during recess of the second grade.
People change. Moments fade. You. Grow. Up.
And with growing up, comes putting up.
And with putting up, comes fessing up.
And with fessing up?
Comes words.
Words you vowed never to speak, and words you dread to sound out.
Syllables that won't come and Shapes your lips don't make.
Because you're soft.
She promised best friends forever 10 years ago, and you still hold onto it.
Hoping maybe, you'd relive that distant past that somehow happened to slip through your fingers.
But in the back of your mind, you know it's never,
and outside, you're shrugging like it's whatever but...
In the first 10 weeks of your life, you were given your most powerful weapon.
Used for you, or against you, it's up to you,
Cause all of us.
Not just some of us, all of us.
The Obamas.
The Hitlers.
The Kennedys.
The Castros.
The regular everyday blue-collared workers.
All started as innocent 6-year-olds just looking for someone to sit on the other end of the see-saw.
No one ever wanted death and pain and suffering from the start.
Traditions sent by voice from parent to child caused their pain.
Beliefs sent by voice from adult to next generation caused this hate.
Immaturity sent by voice from teen to teen caused this death.
Sticks and stones,
may break her bones,
but words are meant to kill.

The author's comments:
While reading children's books at the local elementary schools, I realized all the kids interacting with each other. There weren't any cliques or enemies in second grade and it made me angry enough to write about how from some point between childhood and young adulthood, our judgement of people changes.

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