All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
So, because his lips are suddenly
And because his mouth is suddenly
Drier than the Sahara,
He flees out the back door.
The boy can’t breathe.
He almost laughs.
Because it’s kind of funny, once you step back and think about it.
I mean, how often do your own lungs rebel on you?
It’s ridiculous how he forgot something as simple as breathing.
And then he starts to think of trivia,
Because it’s something he’s good at.
How many domestic silkworm cocoons does it take to make a tie?
What was Walt Disney’s ironic fear?
What are the Kings in a deck of cards named?
Alexander, Caesar, Charles, and David.
He looks around:
Looks at the trees,
Because these are familiar things.
Because he knows they will always be there.
And then he flounders toward the pond
Because he has a wild urge to see himself.
To make sure he’s still him, that’s he’s still there.
(It doesn’t make any sense, but what does in life?)
The moon gives off just enough light for him to see his reflection.
It’s not him.
Because the man, boy, person staring at him can’t be him.
Because the person staring back at him has scary eyes.
He has wild eyes.
And the person staring back at him looks insane.
And the person staring back at him looks awfully, impossibly small.
Impetuously, he grabs a rock and flings it into the pond,
Distorting his image.
Because he can’t look.
He doesn’t want to see that man, boy, person anymore.
What is a fear of long words?
He’s on the ground now, curled in a fetal position.
All he can think is: How? How did I let it go this far?
He opens his mouth to scream.
Only a strangled guttural sound escapes.
That’s when he knows it’s over,
That he’s pushed too hard.
So all he can now is suffer the consequences
And scream silently
And beg without words
And pray that someone, anyone,
Will care enough to listen…
Care enough to save him.
His vision blurs and his throat tightens.
And just this once, he allows his impassive mask to break.
And just this once, he allows his poker face to crumble.
And just this once, he allows his facade to shatter.
The tears fall.
Because… Well, just because.