Work Text:
I used to think the days were all the same, boring and unseasoned. The bathroom an escape from the ongoing lectures of history class, the cafeteria loud and amused with food fights and conversations.
I used to think that everything would stay the same, I used to have not a care in the world. The days ongoing will never be like the past. But the thing that will always carry on with us will always last, like the ink on skin of a tattoo. The clean smooth skin now bumpy and ruined with a forever stained mark like a unwanted memory. That memory, that moment, that day was unlike no other. Unexpected-
Screams and cries
Food fights and history teachers no longer.
The unexpected screams and crashes of terror and agony as loud bangs rang out.
The choked breath in my lungs and the trembling of my figure. The need to escape was overwhelming and true. The beat from my chest foreign and new. The bodies fallen and red crawled over, their hands reaching up, agonized and tortured. Those kids I knew once there, then lifeless-all from one of us who was pushed too far and long gone. Bullets flew and soared like birds, the victims being knocked down and never heard again.
I used to think the days were the same but now I know better, now that has changed.
The need to talk but not knowing how. The words that are taken away just like the lives were taken that day. Speechless and stained, forever changed. The days will never be the same. Inked upon skin you can't take away the memories, the ink, but you can learn to adapt to them.
~sincerely, two eighth grade Canadians. xoxo