TRACES SPRING 2016 | Page 47

I’m sure when you hear the word broken, you think of something breaking. Something getting dropped or pushed and shattering into hundreds of pieces. Something stopping, like a clock with frozen hands. Or something without a part, like a child’s toy car missing the back wheels. And yes, those are all decent examples of things breaking, but have you ever thought that people can break too? Yes of course physically in a way, but I’m talking about mentally. They feel like they’re useless to everyone and have no place. They feel like they have nothing to smile about, or that they have nothing enjoyable in life. So just think, not only can objects break, people can too.

I sat there, hands on my desk staring at the wall. In all honesty, I had no idea what the teacher was talking about. I couldn’t help but put all my attention on the posters behind him. They were nothing special, but it was like they were hypnotizing me. I couldn’t take my eyes off them. The Periodic table never seemed so interesting. I kept thinking “Who arranged them, and why?” I knew the answer, but I kept thinking there was more to it. People had always told me that I think too much. That I get too caught up with what’s in my head, that I can never focus on putting more in. That’s not true, I’m smart and I know I am, but no one else seems to think anything of me. I was the kid you basically only talked to if you needed notes or needed to know what homework we had. No one hated me, and only a few really liked me. I hated it in all honesty, but what could I do about it? Nothing.

School was paradise compared to home. No, I didn’t live in a bad area. I lived in a huge neighborhood with tons of kids from my school, and it was a good neighborhood. Everyone knew everyone, which is good thing.

Crumbled but not Torn

By Makenzie Cima

By Makenzie Cima

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