“Like the wind I whisper softly,

Like the rain I weep,

Like the sky I am forgotten,

Like the earth I sleep.”

Jemmi looked at the paper with tears in her eyes. The kids at school would tease her if she turned this in. Ms. Grover, her English teacher ALWAYS read “Another one of Jemmi’s masterpieces” and although she craved the attention, Jemmi was getting sick of the looks on the other students’ faces. Was it her fault if she lived alone in an abandon car and only could wash once or twice a year? Was it her fault her mother had left her, for a man who hated kids? Was it her fault that the only thing she could do was write poems, in an attempt to unravel her hateful feelings towards herself? Yes it was her fault, according to the kids at school. Well she could would never need to hear them speak again. Never, never, never. Tonight was her last. That very day she had gone into the grocery store and stole a bottle of sleeping pills. “Keep away from children” The bottle said.

Jemmi looked at the bottle thoughtfully, “How do you define a child?” she asked herself. She looked at the old blue notebook on her lap. It was filled with poems she had written. There was one page left, the notebook was filled with sadness, like her life. She lifted her pencil and with a shaking hand wrote:

“Goodbye. Read the poems again. They are the story of my life.

Goodbye,

Jemmi Andersen”

And with a sigh Jemmi took the pills.

~

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