Unspoken

[elementary school]

" yes words can hurt, but sometimes the words that are never said can hurt even more. "

-s.b.

julia torrence

I remember hating you the second you took a hold of my indigo crayon in your chubby hands. I had been busily doodling a nice portrait of an indigo house- hence the indigo crayon- when you snatched said crayon from my small hand. At only five years old, you gave me a smirk and started using my crayon to fill in the shape of a hippo. An indigo hippo.

I was painfully shy at that age and reached into the crayon box and got an apple green crayon for my grass. Despite my early bad interaction with you, I didn't hate you yet. Until you started to constantly tease me of my height. You were taller than me by a centimeter but you used that centimeter to your advantage and teased me. We were only five and you were just a troublemaker then.

Your dark hair that curled around your ears was always groomed at the beginning of class then tousled by the end. Your ocean blue eyes always held mischief, especially when provoking me. I was the complete opposite of you. Light brown shoulder length hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. I was admittedly shy and you constantly pushed my buttons.

That's how it was all of kindergarten. I barely made any real friends those years as if you're constant teasing made me an automatic pariah to the other students. My mom thought it was cute and constantly told me you teased me because you had some crush on me. I'd scrunch my nose and my face would screw into disgust. I remember breathing a sigh of relief when I didn't have you in my first grade class with Mrs. Kim. However having separate classes didn't stop you from bugging me during recess or when we would see each other in one of our homes.

The day I wore a nice floral sundress to school and you decided to chase me around the courtyard was the day I conjured up another reason to hate you. I tripped on the edge of the concrete and ended up scraping my knee and elbow pretty bad. I saw you standing with your best friend, Raymond, by your side and for the first time you had a look of guilt as you saw my tear streaked face.

Once I met Elise in second grade, you started easing off on the badgering. I guess I was no longer a lone girl that couldn't keep a friend for longer than a couple of weeks. Before Elise, I thought I had a friend with Irene but the little traitor left me to smear on bubblegum lip gloss and become the center of attention of the kids in our grade. Thank god that didn't last long and I didn't hold a grudge against Irene. She moved by the end of that school year.

Elise knew an abundant amount about me and knew how much of a tormentor you could be. But she never saw you after school hours and I never told her of our interactions. I really wish I told someone.

As we grew up I still didn't understand you at all. My mom and your mom were constantly chatting and visiting and on the dreadful days my mom decided to drag me along with her, I had to be at my best behavior and 'play with Will'. You thought playing was locking me in a dark closet until I cried. Your older brother, Vince, was the one to find me. He was always nice to me, unlike you.

When your little sister, Alyssa, was born, you began to act out. Everyone saw it as trying to get attention since your little sister was the one getting adoring coos.

Your teasing and picking increased. I was eight and you were nine and I had Elise by my side. At school you kept your distance but when I would go to your house or you and your mom would come over, the hostile and provoking behavior continued. I didn't know the definition of bipolar back then but thinking about it now, that's exactly how you were. It was bipolar behavior of you because one second you were teasing me and the next, offering me words of comfort.

I had fallen down in your backyard and scraped my knee. I was supposed to be playing tag with you but you decided to shun me away while you played soldiers with Raymond. You guys were the best of friends and it was a convenient arrangement as my mother, your mother, and Raymond's mother were all chatting on the patio. My knee was bleeding and a lone tear slipped out of my eye. You were the one to grab my hand and take me to the hallway bathroom.

"Don't cry. It's just a scrape." I looked up into your blue eyes. You seemed almost annoyed.

"I'm not crying!" I squeaked and swiped at my face.

"Sure," You rolled your eyes and handed me a camouflage band aid. I silently stuck it over my cut.

"Thanks." I muttered.

Your one and half year old sister decided to wobble into the bathroom. She saw me sitting on the toilet seat lid and her small hazel eyes widened at the sight of the band aid on my knee. She walked towards me and looked up at my dirty face.

She quickly kissed my knee, "Boo boo all better." She gave me a big gapped smile before exiting the bathroom with her dark brown curls bouncing.

I smiled as she left and let out a chuckle. You also had a small smile plastered on your face.

"Your little sister is so cute." I smiled at you and your grin dimmed.

"Yeah," you muttered under your breath.

You just stared at me then left the bathroom quickly. I cleaned myself up then decided to stay at my mother's side for the rest of the day.

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